


A Place in the World

by ArchitectOfLight117



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Multi, OFC - Freeform, OMC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 189,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchitectOfLight117/pseuds/ArchitectOfLight117
Summary: Muggleborn Eli Chaplain is cast adrift when she's sorted into Slytherin - hated by her own house, she turns to what friends she can to weather her school years, especially a misfit boy who the twins have taken under their wing. But Eli has her own secrets to find, in a world growing uneasier every day...and her life is only just beginning to unravel. T for language and some themes.





	1. Strange Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the first story I've posted in a long time! I hope you all like it, whoever might possibly be interested - I'm really nervous since I haven't posted in years and years and years, but by no means be gentle with me! The only way we learn is by constructive criticism. Have at it.

Mrs. Harper prided herself on being a very understanding kindergarten teacher. She liked to believe and trust her students until otherwise proven, and her classroom was usually in a certain sort of order—except for one student.

And that student’s parents were seated in front of her at that very moment.

“So you’re saying…she has no friends?” The little girl’s mother seemed so worried, and Mrs. Harper felt for her. Every parent wanted their child to have a wonderful experience in school… Most were let down. “But…does she not play well with the other kids?”

“It isn’t that,” the teacher soothed. “She tries her best, but she just… Eliana is on a different plane than the others, I think. Actually, that’s why I asked you here.” She steeled herself—this wasn’t an easy thing to say. “I don’t believe our facility here is right for her, unfortunately. You ought to look into homeschooling, she’s very bright and ahead of her class already. Or an advanced program, perhaps. I just don’t believe she’s going to get much out of traditional schooling, and honestly it’s best to switch her early, before she’s settled in more.”

Her father frowned deeply. “Are you…expelling her?”

“No no, not at all.” She’d expected that reaction. “Eliana can remain here, if you choose that. I’m merely recommending that she’d be happier elsewhere.”

Late that night, in tears, her mother asked. “But where can we send her? I don’t know what to do…”

“We’ll have to homeschool her, like Mrs. Harper said,” her father sighed. “There’s no other choice.”

And Eliana, seated quietly at the top of the stairs, listening in, looked at her doll floating beside her and wondered how she’d ever find a place in the world when the world didn’t seem to work like her. Blinking away tears, she hugged her doll to her and shut her eyes against the light flickering out of her fingers. Somehow she’d be okay. She had to be.

Five years later, when her letter came, everything made sense. A witch. Eliana was magical. She and her parents cried together because god, she finally knew where she fit in.

\--

“Come on, sweetie, you’ll be late!”

Eli stared up at the steaming train in awe, hardly hearing her mother’s voice. She’d only lived among magic for all of twenty-four hours—they’d spent the night in Diagon Alley, since their home was in Sussex and they’d never have made it to the station on time.

“Eliana!”

She started at her father’s sharp tone, grinning as she chased after her parents. All around her, children were saying their goodbyes, parents were in tears, and one little brunette girl was clinging to her mum and sobbing. Eli was proud she wasn’t upset—she was just excited to fit in, to learn magic…and hopefully stop accidentally setting things on fire when she was excited.

They loaded her trunk up on the train and Eli climbed on, letting her mother kiss her and her father hug her—before she bounded off down the corridor, beaming ear to ear. Eli felt courageous, happier than she had in in ages. The train whistled and began moving, and she pressed a hand to the window to steady herself. Through the glass, she could see her parents awkwardly making their way through the crowds. _Muggles_ , they’d been called. Non-magic folk. It hadn’t sounded derogatory, but the handful of stares Eli’s parents had received told her being a _muggle_ wasn’t necessarily a good thing either.

Sighing, the blonde continued down the corridor. She resolved not to care about her parentage, and just focus on school. That’s why she was here, after all.

Two redheaded boys sprinted past her, laughing through their apologies as they chased each other down the hall. Eli shook her head—she’d never behave like that. Well, okay, maybe she would with Mary Woodgate down the road, but not anymore. She was eleven, and she should act more maturely.

Eli searched until she found a compartment with only one occupant, which she figured would just have to do, in the end. She slid the door open and stepped halfway in, smiling awkwardly at the dark-haired boy inside. “Um, hi,” she greeted, her earlier courage waning.

The boy looked just as shy. “Hey.”

She took a breath and moved inside fully. “Can I sit here? There’s nowhere else…”

He looked delighted. “Sure, of course! Nobody else wanted to, I think they all had friends already.” He quickly stuck out his hand at her. “I’m Simon MacKenzie.”

She shook his hand, grinning again. He seemed so nice. “Eli Chaplain. Well, Eliana, but nobody calls me that except my parents.”

Simon nodded and took a seat across from her. “Okay, Eli it is, then.” He hesitated only a moment before blurting, “So are your parents magical?”

She blinked. Was that a normal question? “Er…no they aren’t. They’re, um…muggles.”

“Mine were magical, but I was raised by my muggle aunt,” Simon told her easily. Eli realized he was just…making conversation. He was a very strange boy, she decided. Not bad-strange, just…just strange. “My parents died when I was little, that’s why my aunt raised me. But she knew all about the wizarding world.”

Eli eyed him jealously. “I didn’t know about it until I got my letter.”

But Simon seemed unbothered by her gaze. “Well, I’m sure you’ll learn quick enough. Everything is much easier with magic.”

She thought about her favorite doll bursting into flames, her dresser with all her clothes inside turning to ashes…yet impossible flowers had bloomed from the ashes, and she’d healed the family cat’s broken leg once… “It’s…complicated, I think,” Eli told him hesitantly. “Very complicated.”

They chatted on the ride to Hogwarts, and Simon explained everything he knew about the school to Eli—the houses, the way classes worked, the dormitories, and the intimidating Headmaster. Finally they spotted kids their age in their school robes, so they took turns on trips to go change. Eli returned giggling, spinning endless circles. “I feel so…heavy,” she laughed. “But floaty!”

Simon shoved her as she spun too close, grinning at her. “Oi, watch it!”

Eli purposefully spun into his legs, giving him a kick as she did. “Watch what?” she asked daintily. Her newfound friend just shook his head.

The first years rode in boats up to the castle, and Eli just stared—she’d never seen anything at all like it. Hogwarts looked like something out of a fairytale, or an ancient novel, a place out of time and almost glowing of its own accord. She felt at home instantly, for it felt like her soul.

She stuck close to Simon as they walked up what seemed like endless flights of stairs, finally reaching two huge doors where a teacher in dark green robes halted them. “Welcome, first years,” she greeted, warmly but somewhat sternly. “I am Professor McGonagall. Now, shortly you will follow me into the Great Hall to be sorted into your houses. Your belongings will be brought up to your dormitories, as well as additions to your uniforms in your new house colours, for you to wear to classes tomorrow. Any questions?”

Simon’s hand shot up beside Eli.

“Yes, Mr.…?”

He cleared his throat. “MacKenzie, ma’am. I just wondered… What if we don’t like our house? Or they don’t like us?”

She frowned at him. “We would address that depending on the situation, Mr. MacKenzie. But I assure you, our students are very welcoming.” Behind the professor, the door cracked open and a man with long, scraggly hair stuck his head through, whispering urgently.

Professor McGonagall nodded firmly. “It’s time. Follow me, please.”

Eli clutched to Simon’s sleeve as they headed into the Great Hall, feeling everyone’s eyes on her head as she stared pointedly at the ground. Where had her confidence gone? She huffed out a breath and looked up, meeting the eyes of the students to either side of her. Much better. The hall was beautiful, as well, with floating candles, a cloudy ceiling, and stained glass windows. She was glad she’d looked.

The first years all grouped at the foot of the raised end of the room, staring up at a ratty old hat on a single chair. Behind that was a huge long table with adults sitting behind it, all eyeing up the new students arguably as if they were raw meat. Eli brazenly stared at the fiercest looking of them, a man in elegant black robes with a hooked nose and a rather dark expression on his face. But he didn’t seem to notice her.

Professor McGonagall called them up one at a time, in an order which seemed totally arbitrary. But Eli didn’t mind, since she got to see the types of people getting sorted to each house—Simon seemed aware of some of the surnames, and pointed out that every student sorted to the Slytherin house was what he called ‘pureblood.’ “What’s pureblood?” Eli whispered.

“Means they have no muggles in their ancestry. They’re all magical, really old families. That’s what my aunt told me.” He paused, then sighed. “My aunt by marriage. I’m pureblood, actually.”

Eli stared at him, surprised. She definitely wasn’t. Was that a bad thing? “Does that make you better than me?” she challenged.

Simon grinned. “Totally.”

She smacked his arm, earning herself a sharp look from the professor. He was joking, and she knew that, but she didn’t take kindly to being spoken down to.

“Simon MacKenzie,” McGonagall called. With a deep breath, the boy jogged up the steps and sat on the chair, allowing the Sorting Hat to be placed on his head. For a moment, the hat seemed to deliberate, and though Eli couldn’t make out the words, she was certain it was communicating.

Finally, a word rang out: “ _Gryffindor_!”

With a huge grin, Simon hopped down and rushed to his new house, amid cheers and grinning and extended hands.

“Frederick Weasley.”

Eli watched as one of the redheaded boys from earlier walked up, confident and relaxed. The hat barely touched his head before it sent him to Gryffindor. Moments later, his apparent twin was called up, a boy named George, and he was sent even quicker! They joined another couple redheads and she stared at them openly—how many were there? Goodness.

“Eliana Chaplain.”

Eli flinched as her name was called. Her only friend in the bunch was in Gryffindor, but from the chatter she’d heard Ravenclaw was for the most intelligent young witches and wizards. That could be a good fit. Slytherin was for purebloods, and the occasional half-blood, so that was out from the start. And the other, Hufflepuff, seemed okay but she couldn’t get a read on who went there. So, Gryffindor or Ravenclaw preferably. Easy.

She walked briskly up to the chair, confident in her upcoming placement in one of those two houses. Surely she’d make it.

The hat was placed upon her head, and a voice seemed to emanate from inside her very skull. “ _Hm, interesting… A firestarter… Haven’t had one of those in a while!_ ”

Her head tipped to the side, against her will. Eli held her breath. What had it called her?

“ _Most interesting… Cunning, strong, brave… A penchant for destruction with a clever mind to direct it… Oh, this will be fun…_ ”

A shiver ran through her. Destruction?! Eli didn’t enjoy destruction, never. She hated how she always burned everything up. One of her goals was to control those outbursts and eventually get rid of them altogether, not…not use them!

“ _All in time, Chaplain, all in good time. For now…your path is set._ ”

This time, the Sorting Hat spoke outside her head, its voice ringing out in the hall. “ _Slytherin_!”

Silence.

Eli sucked in a breath as the hat was removed. Usually only purebloods made it into Slytherin, she knew that… She’d gotten a sense of their pride in that fact as well, and now…she’d been Sorted into that house? But how? Surely this was a mistake…

But Professor McGonagall was looking at her expectantly, if anxiously. “Miss Chaplain, if you please…”

Slowly, Eli rose to her feet and crossed the room, nearly stumbling on the bottom stair. The entire table was just…just staring at her, some curiously and others with unabashed hatred. A muggleborn in Slytherin. Eli felt more out of place than ever before.

Simon looked at her in panic from his place at the Gryffindor table, but there was nothing for it. She could already feel the gap between them. Eli faced away from him when she sat down, between a couple other first years who looked at her like she was a creature from the deep. All her hopes of fitting in here vanished, and suddenly this magical school was a trap designed to ruin her life, just like every other school she’d tried.

Well…damn.

Eli found herself shunned by her fellow Slytherin first year girls that night, in the basement dormitory. She was so agitated by their hostility—“Why are you even in this house? There hasn’t been a muggleborn in ages!”—that she took a blanket and slept on the common room couch instead of her own bed.

The next morning, their head of house—in this case, the intimidating Professor Severus Snape—came to the common room to distribute schedules and maps for those who needed them. Eli was still sleeping when he arrived, and was startled awake when he spoke to her.

“Miss Chaplain, might I ask why you’re not in your bed?” he asked, looking furious.

Eli sat up quickly, rubbing her eyes and trying to hide her fear. Her first full day and she was already angering her head of house. Great start. “I—I’m sorry, sir. The others didn’t make me feel very…welcome, I’m afraid. I thought I’d get more sleep down here.”

Snape’s face melted back from some of that anger. “Well, Miss Chaplain, you might have heard you’re the first muggleborn to be accepted into this house in a long time. Our founder was quite…selective, in his students.” He offered her a hand and helped her to stand, as she was still fighting yawns and not fully awake. “However… The Sorting Hat placed you here for a reason, wouldn’t you say?”

She clenched her teeth against a yawn. The professor was…scary, in a way, most definitely. But he also seemed to be giving her some sort of a pep talk. She couldn’t get a handle on his personality just yet. “I…I suppose so.”

He inclined his head. “We are a proud house. Do not let the judgment of others hold you back—simply forge your own path.” With that, Snape drew two sheets of parchment from the stack he’d been carrying. “Your schedule and a map of the grounds, Miss Chaplain. I suggest you arrive in class on time.”

Eli took a risk and flashed him a grin. “Thanks, professor.” She turned tail and ran upstairs, ignoring the irate looks from the other girls in the dormitory. A proud house, he’d said. So she’d be proud and pretend they didn’t bother her. Maybe one day they wouldn’t. For now…if she wanted revenge she had to start learning how magic worked.

\--

The first week was a bit rough. Eli realized her house was pretty much hated by all the others, regaled as a house of proud arseholes with bad intentions. Simon bravely crossed house lines to remain her friend, and though they hung out between classes, they couldn’t sit together or work together on anything school related besides homework. And honestly, being a muggleborn, she couldn’t make friends in her own house to begin with.

Of anyone, she realized her only ally was the person the other houses hated or even feared—Professor Snape. He seemed convinced she had a place in Slytherin, and frequently reminded her in conjunction with her academics. She excelled at Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, things he assured her were very Slytherin traits. And she was cunning, even Eli could admit that to herself. She’d taught herself how to brew a potion to cause vomiting for twenty-four hours, managed to cook it up in her free time at the end of class, and slipped it to her dorm-mates as revenge for treating her poorly.

Everything held for a couple weeks, and it was okay, for the most part. Until they were assigned a research project in Defense Against the Dark Arts. A _group_ research project. And of course, within moments of their professor announcing that they could choose their own groups, Eli found herself alone between grouped masses of Slytherins and Gryffindors. She bit her lip to keep her emotions in—calm, keep track of yourself—and resigned herself to a project by herself. Fine, she’d do it better than any group could, she’d have the best one in the whole class-

“Ah, Miss Chaplain… Why don’t you simply work with…with this group?” the Professor suggested, gesturing at a group of three boys in front of him.

Eli looked over, surprised—then her eyes widened. Oh, this wasn’t good at all…

The group he’d suggested was made up of Simon and the redheaded twins she’d seen around him a handful of times. In other words, Gryffindors. He was trying to pair Gryffindors with a Slytherin! She’d be ripped to shreds!

No. No, Professor Snape was right, Eli knew she was in that house for a reason. She’d survive. “Works for me,” she answered simply.

Eli grabbed her things, crossed to their chosen desk, and spun a chair around to sit beside Simon. She turned a vibrant smile on the boys, trying for goodwill, but the twins were just glaring at her with all the anger they could find.

“Uh, guys, this is Eli Chaplain,” Simon introduced nervously.

“She’s a Slytherin, Simon,” one of the boys muttered. “You know her?”

Eli jumped to her own defense. “We met on the train. And for your information, I’m a muggleborn. The Slytherins hate me too.”

The other twin gave her a confused look. “You’re a muggleborn? Slytherins are _never_ muggleborns.”

“Tell me about it,” she grumbled irritably. “I only know half-bloods, that’s all. You know, we’re not as bad as you think. All I know about most Gryffindors is they hate me before they’ve learnt anything about me. So are all Gryffindors judgmental arses?”

The second twin laughed at that. “All right, you got us there. I’m Fred Weasley.”

Simon scoffed at him. “No you’re not, _he’s_ Fred, you’re George.” He nodded towards Eli knowingly. “Watch these two, they like to switch places.”

“We do not!” the twin Eli knew now to be Fred argued.

Decisively, Eli leaned forward and flicked his ear. “You’re Fred, he’s George. And if you pretend otherwise to me again I’ll turn your hair pink forever, so everyone always can tell the difference,” she threatened calmly.

Fred leaned back from her, eyes wide. “Point taken, Miss Chaplain.”

She flicked his hand this time, and crossed her arms. “Eli.”

George snickered and nudged his brother. “Better keep an eye out for this one, eh Freddie?”

Rubbing his ear, Fred just nodded. Simon flashed a brief grin at Eli, and she returned it bravely—so maybe her own house didn’t like her. So what? She could make friends with _Gryffindors_ , what other Slytherin could say that? As Simon pulled out his textbook and suggested they start their project on attributes of mermaids, she just couldn’t wipe a dopey smile off her face. Things really could turn around here.

\--

“All right then, Eli. Georgie and I have devised a test to see if you’re really worthy of being our friend,” Fred announced one day. While Eli ate lunch with her own house, tucked away alone at the very end, she joined up with her newfound friends afterwards in their free time. Fred and George almost always showed up, as they seemed to never need to do schoolwork, while Simon came maybe half the time. Over a couple weeks, Eli had gotten to know their other friend Lee Jordan, another Gryffindor boy who struggled to accept her presence. He’d certainly turned around quick when she helped him with his Potions homework once, though. Her companionship with the Gryffindors seemed to agitate Professor Snape, but he remained on her side both in class and in the matter of her Sorting.

Eli sighed and looked up from her Charms homework—two inches of parchment on the proper use of an unsticking spell. “A test? Really? Nearly three weeks of me and you still don’t believe I’m not some awful Slytherin turncoat?”

“It’s not that,” Simon piped up. He tossed a twig idly at Fred, who ignored it. “They want your help since Lee and I said no.”

She eyed the twins suspiciously. “Help with what?”

“We need to check out Filch’s office, of course!” George told her brightly.

Eli snorted. “Of course,” she mocked. “And why would you need to do that? You’ll be in detention for months! Maybe even the whole school year, did you ever think of that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Why would I be any help, anyway? I’m a rotten actor.”

“It’s simple,” George assured her.

“You love cats,” Fred finished.

Eli groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead. “I am so going to regret this…”

And that’s how, an hour later, she found herself hovering right in the path of Filch’s usual rounds, pretending to work on her homework in an alcove but really waiting for the caretaker to appear. Fred and George were a few halls down, working on gaining entrance to his office, and they’d asked for fifteen minutes to get in and out. No easy feat. But…well…they’d been right. Eli _loved_ cats. They’d discovered that on their first weekend as tentative friends, when she’d worn a jumper embroidered with the face of a kitten. If she’d had the money, she’d have bought a cat in Diagon Alley.

Filch had a cat, a smart little thing called Mrs. Norris, who seemed to help him spy on the students. But she was a gorgeous kitty and to be honest, Eli had been looking for an excuse to pet her. She supposed it was as good a time as any.

Finally, Filch himself rounded the corner, Mrs. Norris at his heels. He shot her a suspicious look down his nose, before obviously intending to walk on past her—but Eli drew herself up and stepped into his path. “Mr. Filch, hi,” she greeted as brightly as she could.

He grunted at her. “Out of my way,” he grumbled.

Eli stood her ground. “I just—your cat is so beautiful, sir. Is it okay to…to pet her or anything? She seems lovely.”

The caretaker looked at her in shock. “You—want to pet my cat?” he demanded. Then he narrowed his eyes. “She doesn’t like other people.”

However, Eli was already ignoring him and crouching before the cat, wiggling her fingers and clicking her tongue like she’d done for the ferals in her neighborhood. “Hey, sweet kitty,” she murmured, extending her hand. Mrs. Norris approached her curiously, hesitantly sniffing at her fingers a moment before pulling back. Eli felt disappointed, and nearly gave up—but the cat moved forward and bumped her head into Eli’s hand, asking for pets just like any other kitty.

Eli grinned, delighted. “She’s so sweet,” she giggled, stroking her fingers down the cat’s back and then scritching her chin. “We used to have a stray near my house who looked like her, a sort of Maine Coon or tabby. She had kittens but my mum wouldn’t let me keep one. I remember one was totally black all over, like a fluffy black cloud.”

Apparently won over by his cat’s acceptance, Filch mumbled, “I’ve had ‘er since she was just a kitten… Fed her m’self since she was just a week old.”

For as long as she could, Eli kept the conversation going—but the caretaker wasn’t much of a conversationalist and really, you could only talk about someone else’s cat for so long. So finally she had to back off and let them go. She just hoped it had been long enough for the twins.

As they’d agreed, Eli went on to her classes—she was just waiting for Potions, where she sat across the aisle from Simon and diagonally from the twins. She’d find out then if everything went well.

Her next class, History of Magic, dragged on terribly as always—she tried her hardest to take proper notes but it was so hard to concentrate on the old ghost—but afterwards was Potions and thank goodness for that. Eli rushed right in, dragged her textbook out, and checked the chalkboard for the day’s lesson. Professor Snape was nowhere to be found yet, as were most of the Gryffindors, but a handful of Slytherins were there already. She copied down the potion in her notebook—a basic sleeping draught, it seemed—and began studying the recipe.

A few minutes later the boys arrived, chatting excitedly among themselves in hushed voices. To avoid any extra ire, they pretended not to know Eli in most classes—Potions especially. But as they passed, George winked at Eli and nodded.

She grinned triumphantly. They’d done it! The twins had gotten their look in Filch’s office without getting caught, and she’d helped. Maybe now they’d stop thinking she was going to turn on them.

The class passed uneventfully, and while Eli managed to make a decent enough potion to earn Slytherin an extra five points, she noted the twins created something that looked more like black sludge—purposefully, apparently. They were experimenting and somehow didn’t think they’d get points docked for that.

After classes that evening, Eli caught up with Simon and the twins in the Great Hall just before dinner. “So?” she demanded. “How’d it go?”

Fred beamed at her. “Well, we didn’t get caught.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I gathered that. Did you get anything good? Or was it all for naught?”

“We got…well…” George sighed and shrugged. “We took this bit of parchment Filch had locked up tight, but it just seems to insult people who try and read it.”

She felt _so_ disappointed. With how the caretaker seemed about his office, he ought to have better contraband than that! “Well, that’s rubbish then. I’m not helping you ever again if that’s all you get out of it.”

“Fred’s still convinced there’s more to it,” George confided in her, smirking at his twin. “I doubt it, though. Filch is just mad.”

Simon nudged Eli and shook his head. “They said he had it behind six different locks… So obviously he thinks it’s something important. But it was all covered in dust… Whoever made it is probably long gone.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Fred asserted. “We just need a little more time.”

\--

By the week before Christmas holidays began, the twins had mostly given up on the parchment. Likewise, Eli had given up on her house. She even ate with her Gryffindor friends sometimes, though she received the oddest looks for it. Not that she cared—people who messed with Eli had a strange habit of coming down with horrible illnesses.

Well. People who messed with Eli or her friends.

She had developed a reputation she quite enjoyed—her house didn’t hate her so much as fear her, at least her fellow first years did, and the older Slytherins simply kept their distance. Of course, most Gryffindors did too…except for Simon, George, Fred, and their assorted friends. The twins had gotten to be pretty popular in their own right, and though Simon didn’t quite fit in properly the two defended him and insisted he belonged in their group. They didn’t need to defend Eli, of course.

When it came time for Christmas holidays, Eli spent dinner with Simon and the twins while they discussed their holiday plans.

“Mum wants me home,” Simon told them, through a bite of turkey. He called his aunt ‘Mum,’ seeing as she’d raised him. “My sister’s coming home from Beauxbatons as well, and they’re throwing her a big Christmas party since she hardly ever comes back for it.”

George looked surprised. “Your sister goes to that flouncy school?”

On the other hand, Fred was confused for a very different reason. “You have a sister, Simon?”

Eli giggled. “You’ve always got your head somewhere else, don’t you?”

“He might lose it if it wasn’t attached to his head,” George told her in a loud stage-whisper. In retaliation, Fred nearly shoved him off the bench. Batting his brother away, George added, “We’re going home too, Mum always makes such a fuss over the holidays.”

Suddenly, Eli felt very lonely. “I’m staying here,” she sighed. “My parents are taking a trip, they won’t be home until classes have started up again.” Her friends would all be gone? And just when she was getting used to not being by herself.

“I’m sorry, Eli,” Simon murmured, looking sad.

But Eli waved him off. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I can catch up on my reading. Plenty of magical books to pass the time.” She put on a bright smile, but inside she was struggling. Christmas alone…

The twins exchanged pointed looks. “You know,” Fred began.

“You could always,” George continued.

“Spend Christmas with us,” they finished together.

Eli stared at them in surprise. “But—I couldn’t possibly, your mum and dad aren’t expecting me and besides, I’m not a…I’m a…” She sucked in a breath, composing herself. Calm. Focus. Don’t panic. “Well, I’m a Slytherin, aren’t I? And your whole family are Gryffindors. I’m not sure I’d be welcome.”

Fred poked her arm from across the table. “Rubbish. Mum’s always happy to have company, and besides-”

“You’re not like them,” George pointed out. “You aren’t an arse and you don’t look down on us just because we’re Gryffindors. Honestly, we’d all be happy to have you.”

“Come on, Chaplain. Come and have a proper wizard’s Christmas with us.” Fred beamed at her, looking incredibly excited.

Simon nodded his encouragement. “It’ll be better than staying here, Eli.”

She sighed—no matter her discomfort, it was better to try it now than make excuses every holiday. “All right, fine. I’ll go.”


	2. Christmas and a New Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting this off with a bang, two chapters at once! Meaning I can't check in properly - so I hope you enjoyed that first chapter enough to come check out this one as well! <3

Six days later, Eli sat with Fred and George on the Hogwarts Express as it carried them and a good number of the other students back to Kings Cross for the holidays. They were all dressed in their street clothes, Eli in a denim skirt with thick tights, boots, and a woolen jumper—while of course, the twins had on matching outfits. Simon’s aunt had arranged to pick him up the night before, so it was just the three of them, laughing and eating sweets they’d pooled their money to purchase.

“So, wait, go through that again,” Eli laughed, squeezing her eyes shut. “There’s…Bill, right? Then…Percy?”

George snickered. “Bill, then _Charlie_ -”

“Oh right, with the dragons!”

“Then Percy after him. Then us, of course, the absolute best.” George paused when Eli hit him on the arm. “Ow, hey!”

Fred picked up while his twin rubbed his arm—Eli hit hard. “After that is Ron, our baby brother. And then Ginny, the only girl.”

George shook his head sadly. “Poor thing.”

Eli drummed her fingers on her leg. “Bill, Head Boy; Charlie, loves dragons; Percy, prefect; the twins; Ron, the youngest boy; and Ginny, the only girl. Right?”

“Perfect!” Fred crowed.

“You have too many siblings,” she griped, crossing her arms. Really, though, she was just nervous. Since she’d been Sorted into Slytherin, she’d become intensely aware of the divide between her house and her friends’ houses, and though she crossed it bravely she knew plenty of people, even adults, might balk at a Slytherin being anywhere near them. Perhaps Fred and George’s parents were like that, and the boys just didn’t know it.

The train arrived and they hauled their luggage onto the platform, Eli refusing to allow either of them to help despite her trouble. “You did let your parents know I’m coming, right?” she asked a touch anxiously, following behind George’s trunk as they weaved among families.

“Well, we sent an owl,” George told her.

“But Errol’s been known to drop the post before,” Fred cackled, throwing her a smirk over his shoulder.

George dropped back a moment. “Don’t worry, Eli, mum’s going to love you,” he assured her, too quietly for Fred to hear.

Eli smiled and nodded, drawing herself up. She was a Slytherin, and she was damn well going to act like one. At least…she was going to try.

The elder Weasley brothers were waiting for them near the entrance to the platform. “There you lot are,” laughed Charlie. “We were wondering if you’d missed the train.”

Fred dodged Charlie’s attempt to rub his hair. “You wish,” he retorted.

The wiry one Eli assumed was Percy gave her a withering look. “But she’s-”

“She’s what?” George demanded. “Got something to say about our friend?” He crossed his arms and set a fierce look upon his brother, a stance Eli had seen the twins take many a time—usually before they attempted to haul off and slug someone in their face for taunting Eli. Of course, she just hexed the offender when their back was turned.

Percy sniffed. “Well, if you ask me-”

But Bill elbowed him in the side, hard. “Nobody asked you, Perce,” he sighed. “Keep it to yourself. Eli is our guest, got it?”

“Don’t make us string you up outside again,” Charlie snickered.

Eli bit the inside of her cheek to keep from blushing. She’d never expected Fred and George’s siblings to defend her, especially against their own brother—though it did sound like they had previous issues with him.

Before she needed to comment, a shortish woman with curly red hair came through the entrance, chattering loudly to the redheaded man behind her. A young boy trailed between them, and the woman had a little girl attached to her hand—both redheaded as well.

“There’s mum, finally,” Fred sighed, picking up his trunk’s handle.

Eli swallowed nervously. She wasn’t really bothered by Percy, she’d had a few run-ins with him while causing general chaos with the twins, and it seemed he might blame her for their behavior—as if—but he didn’t scare her. She was very much so worried about their parents, though.

Mrs. Weasley was fretting to and from, checking over all her boys, kissing them on their heads and checking them for ‘damage,’ it appeared. George lent into Eli and whispered, “She does this every time. Like we’re going to come back all sliced to ribbons.”

Finally, Mrs. Weasley made her way down to Eli. “Oh! And this must be your friend, George… Eliana, was it?”

Eli bit back a harsh correction. “Er, Eli, ma’am. But yes.” So she _had_ gotten their letter. That was good, at least. But how did she know Eli’s first name?

“Boys!” Mrs. Weasley rounded on the twins suddenly. “Did you use me to play a prank on your friends again?”

As she laid into them, Eli just giggled and stuck out her tongue at the two. Serve them right. She _never_ went by her real first name. It wasn’t that she hated it, the name just felt too…fluffy for her personality.

“Right, we’d better be going, shouldn’t we, Molly?” Mr. Weasley suggested, touching his wife’s arm to get her attention.

She nodded and began to sort her children into groups. “Now, since we’ve gotten a bit too big for the car now, we’re going to Apparate home—Eli, dear, have you ever Apparated before?”

Eli shook her head—she recalled the word from a textbook, but she couldn’t quite remember what it was beyond some form of transportation for magical folk.

“That’s quite all right, don’t worry, it’s very safe.” She smiled warmly and beckoned Eli closer. “Now, you hold onto my arm just here, yes, right there, good. And, let’s see, Fred, George?” She looked around for the twins, who by now had begun trying to pin Percy’s coat sleeve to his back, without their brother noticing, of course.

At Mrs. Weasley’s call, the two abandoned their prank and hurried over. Eli had never seen them move so fast, except when they practiced flying. She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but nobody else seemed concerned so she just kept her hands round Mrs. Weasley’s arm and waited to find out.

“Yes, mum?” George asked innocently.

She gave him a look that told him there’d be trouble later, but otherwise dropped the subject. “George, you take Eli’s arm on that side, and Fred, you take Ginny’s here, please. That’s it, good. Everyone ready?” Her keen eyes scanned the group, but everyone seemed to be in place. Eli noted them all congregating and holding onto the of-age wizards, which made sense. Magic travel would only be allowed outside school in that age range.

“All right, then. Have at it,” Mr. Weasley told them loudly.

Eli was about to ask what _it_ was when George clenched down hard on her arm—and then everything spun wildly in front of her. The ground fell away and Eli felt like her stomach was being thrown around in a washing machine, on the highest cycle.

It was over in moments. Eli staggered forward in a field, dropping to her hands and knees and gasping. She didn’t think she’d ever been that nauseous in her life! Apparating was just dreadful.

“Eli?”

“Are you going to throw up?”

She gritted her teeth. “I will not, Fred. Back off.” Eli sucked in a deep breath and forced to her feet, resolving not to show any more weakness. She was a witch, not a pansy, and she’d better start acting like one if she expected to fit into magical society.

Laughing a bit, the twins helped Eli to her feet and led her through the field to a huge house—it looked, to Eli at least, as if it had once been a modern farmhouse. But over the years, additions had been made, mostly upward, turning it into a sort of tower house and giving her the impression it might topple over at any moment.

“Welcome to the Burrow,” Fred announced, sort of proudly and sort of nervously. “Isn’t much-”

“But it is home,” George finished.

Eli stared up at the house as they approached, smiling to herself. “I grew up on a sort of farm too, in Sussex. It’s lovely to live outside the city, I’ve never liked big cities like London much.” Except for the theatre districts, of course, but that was Eli’s secret.

“It might be nice to have a few more neighbors, though,” Bill laughed. “Still, I s’pose it’s better than plenty of other options.”

“I like it,” Eli declared, watching her hosts’ faces light up as she spoke.

She was led in and shown up to a room near the very top—it was a touch dusty but Mrs. Weasley cleared that up in a moment. “Now, if you need _anything_ , do let me know, dear,” she said kindly. Eli blushed, feeling a little uncomfortable with the attention. “Why don’t you get settled in before dinner, Eli? The boys will probably be outside playing Quidditch most of the day, I’m sure you’ll find them out there when you’re ready.”

Left alone, Eli unpacked her small bag and sat on the little bed. The blanket looked homemade, a bit weathered but felt soft when she touched it, and the pillows had definitely seen better days. But everything felt so warm and welcoming, and Eli had to smile—she scarcely felt so comfortable in her own home.

“Eli! You’d better be decent!”

That was all the warning she got before George walked in, grinning hugely. “There you are. Look, Percy won’t join us and we need another player—are you a quick study?”

She tipped her head. “Depends on who’s teaching me. What do you want me to learn?”

He smirked at her, and she got the feeling she’d be regretting saying yes to whatever he suggested. “Oh, nothing much… Just a little game called Quidditch.”

And that’s how Eli found herself wobbling on a broomstick, tossing apples and rocks and playing a fake game of Quidditch with Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, and even Ron—who was still dropping to the ground every so often and a very unsteady flier. But it was all for practice, all in good fun, and Eli found herself laughing and enjoying herself despite her lack of practice on a broom. Fred and George kept yelling tips at her—though it wasn’t much help, Bill had to catch her after they suggested she lean much harder sideways to turn better and she slipped off headfirst!

As the day progressed, though, she began to get the hang of things—mostly she played defense, what they called a Keeper, as she’d played youth football for a while and had been a pretty decent goalie. Eli recalled hearing that her house at school ought to be like family… But that was rubbish, honestly, she felt more at home with a family of Gryffindors than among her fellow Slytherins.

A while later, Mrs. Weasley called them in for dinner. Eli trooped off alongside the twins, carrying her borrowed old broom and smiling ear to ear.

“You’re pretty good, y’know,” Fred commented. “Maybe in a few years you’d make your house team.”

George elbowed him. “We’re trying out next year. Charlie says we ought to go for Beaters, the ones they’ve got now could be a lot better.”

Eli, who had never been to a Quidditch game at Hogwarts, just shrugged. “I doubt I’d be allowed on, they’d never pick me.” Ignoring the way the twins’ faces dropped, she continued, “But I bet you’d make it, you’re really good.”

“You should’ve been in Gryffindor, I don’t know what the Sorting Hat was on about,” George complained, kicking a branch irritably. “I’ve seen you stand up to people, you’re braver than half the Gryffindors I know.”

She had to laugh at that. “Yeah, but how many Gryffindors do you know who’d hex someone when their back’s turned? I’m not that brave, I just know they can’t hurt me.” Eli had gotten quite proficient with charms and hexes, practicing secretly in hidden corridors and even the Common Room late at night, and was quite confident no first year could out-hex her.

“She’s got a point,” Fred admitted.

\--

The holiday couldn’t have passed faster. Eli didn’t think she’d had so much fun with her own parents—she got to help decorate the whole house in tinsel and holly and ribbons, and taught the twins and a very excited Mr. Weasley how to make popcorn balls to put on the tree; she helped Mrs. Weasley cook Christmas dinner; and though she hadn’t bought any presents for anyone, she baked cookies from scratch and wrote everyone’s names on them, and decorated their little piles of presents with holly garlands woven with tinsel. Christmas Day they pulled magical Christmas crackers, she pranked Percy with the twins, braided Ginny’s hair for her, and was shocked to find Mrs. Weasley had knitted her a sweater just like she did for all her children.

Eli had owled her parents a Christmas card—a magical one with a little paper songbird that sang carols—and got a muggle one back, which was still sweet. She missed them, of course, but the Weasleys were so wonderful with her that she couldn’t be homesick. And when it came time to go back to school, she found she’d miss the family. Whatever she’d expected from the holidays…that hadn’t been it.

\--

“It’s never going to work,” laughed Simon. It was their last night free before classes resumed and Fred was—yet again—working on his stolen parchment, as he did every night.

Eli looked up from her book, sighing. She’d been engrossed in a chapter of _Advanced Spells for First Years_ while George and Simon quizzed each other, as Professor Flitwick said she showed real promise in Charms, and she always got high marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. But it wasn’t enough for her. What she really wanted was to be top of the class, which would require outside studying.

“It will work!” Fred retorted crossly.

“What do you even expect to find in that, hm?” she asked. “A treasure map?”

He rolled his eyes. “You just don’t believe.”

Fighting off a fierce grin, Eli countered, “What I believe is you’re up to no good with that parchment. You’re always up to something.”

Fred smirked and tossed his head. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good with this, of course I am. And it’s got to be something good, why else would Filch have hidden it so well?”

But Eli wasn’t paying attention anymore. She was staring, open-mouthed, at the parchment. Where Fred’s wand still trailed, almost forgotten as he defended himself, ink had begun to reveal itself along the parchment’s surface. “Fred… Bloody hell…”

“What?”

George tapped his oblivious brother and pointed at the parchment.

Fred let out a yelp as the others gathered around, watching the words reveal themselves. Excited but still trying to keep his voice down, Fred began to read. “Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present… The Marauder’s Map.” He smoothed a finger over the writing and murmured, “What did I do?”

Taking initiative, George began unfolding the parchment, revealing that its once blank surface now was filled with ink—in fact, as the four of them leaned in to watch, Eli began to see names, and locations, all infinitely familiar… “It’s Hogwarts,” she breathed. “It’s a map of Hogwarts.”

“But are those…” George trailed off, staring intently.

Simon nodded. “Students.”

“Blimey…the teachers are here too!” Fred hissed excitedly. He pointed out a few—Dumbledore in his office, Flitwick in his classroom, and Madame Pince pacing near the entrance to the library. “I think…”

“It’s a map of everyone in Hogwarts!” George finished his sentence.

Eli traced her finger across their names, grimacing a little as she noted hers was written as _Eliana Chaplain_. “My name’s Eli,” she grumbled. As if it had heard her, the name faded and the banner shrunk, replacing it with _Eli Chaplain_. “Well, thanks.”

“Fred, look here—what’s this passage?” George asked, tapping another section of the map. There seemed to be a hallway leading out of the school, but Eli shook her head as she figured out where the map suggested it was located.

“It can’t be, there’s nothing there,” she asserted. “The statue of the one-eyed witch, I pass that all the time, there isn’t a passage to Hogsmeade.”

Fred stood up suddenly. “Let’s go have a look, then.”

Though Eli kept insisting there wasn’t a passage, the four of them made their way to the one-eyed witch statue, keeping a close watch on any nearby teachers with the Marauder’s Map. But when they got there, and discovered she was entirely wrong, they all knew their lives at Hogwarts would never be the same.

\--

As the year wound down, Eli found herself dreading summer. She’d miss her friends terribly, and even though they promised to write, she knew it just wouldn’t be the same to be back in the muggle world. No matter what she’d thought at first, she _had_ found a place to fit in, and now leaving it felt like leaving a piece of herself behind. Three whole months of no potion brewing, no moving staircases, no weather-themed ceilings, and worst of all…no spells or hexes. No magic at all!

But she resolved to study hard all summer to prepare for her second year. Eli wanted to be even better at potion-making—Professor Snape had suggested she had the makings of a true Potions Master, and she wanted so badly to prove him right. Also, she had to prepare better hexes, since her fellow students would be getting stronger too and she’d have to step her game up if she wanted to keep all the other Slytherins afraid of her.

Better afraid than mocking.

Eli passed her summer spending her days studying and her evenings writing to Simon and the twins. She found a branch near the size of her wand and practiced spell movements and incantations in the mirror, so she wouldn’t accidentally cast something and get in trouble.

Simon sent her photos from a trip he took with his aunt to France—moving wizard photos—and the twins kept her amused with oddities and books they sent her. George sent her a weathered old book called _Intermediate to Advanced Hexes: For Petty Revenge and Personal Enjoyment_ , which contained loads of new spells she could use against people, and she practiced at least one spell from it every night.

Finally, as summer drew to a close—summer had _never_ been so painfully dreary—the best letter came in, carried in the beak of the Weasleys’ unreliable owl Errol.

 

_Eli,_

_Did you get your supply list yet? Mum said it might take longer to get to you, since you’re in a muggle town and they’ve got to send the owls at the right time so get don’t get hit by—plains? Something. Anyway!_

_We’ve asked Mum and she said you can come shopping in Diagon Alley with us this year! Then you can sleep at ours and we’ll all catch the train together. If you like, I mean. It’ll be good fun!_

_Write back soon—otherwise we’ll just go without you, and then you’ll be upset, and cry…_

_Wait, do Slytherins cry? Or just glower?_

_Don’t kill me._

_-George_

Eli rushed to her parents immediately and begged to go. Thankfully they agreed, since she’d already spent Christmas with them and it would free them from a trip to Diagon Alley. Even though Eli had always been close with her parents, their standoffishness towards the wizarding world— _her_ world—was carving a gap between them.

Still, she was too excited about seeing her friends again to mind. So she hurried to write back, gave Errol a treat, and sent him on his way.

She was going back!

\--

“Eli!”

She couldn’t help but laugh as the twins mobbed her, switching off hugs and hair-ruffling and spinning her until she was dizzy. “Stop it!” she giggled, pushing the redheads away with fake irritation. Off to one side of the room, her parents watched fondly, while fielding Mr. Weasley’s excited questions about their household appliances.

“You didn’t miss me at all, did you?” she teased them, beaming.

George winked at her. “Not at all, didn’t think of you once.”

Fred smirked. “Actually, who are you again?”

She just laughed and punched both their arms.

Peeling the well-meaning Mr. Weasley away from her parents, Eli said her goodbyes and loaded her trunk up in the blue car parked half on the curb, at an angle with the boot facing almost straight across the road. Her parents gave her money, plenty to exchange and use for clothes, and told her to find a payphone and ring them if she didn’t have enough. Then it was all hugs and quick goodbyes and _please-do-write-us do-you-have-everything did-you-forget-your-wand_ and finally she was off, back into the magical world.

Fred and George caught her up on their adventures while Mr. Weasley drove into London, telling her of their practice for Quidditch—they’d be trying out that year for the Gryffindor house team—and the gnomes in the garden, and how Ginny had sneezed and set Percy on fire—which they secretly thought was on purpose. Eli had nothing of note to tell them, but promised to show off her hex practice their first night back.

“How far did you get in the book I sent you?” George asked eagerly. “I went straight to the end, it had this fantastic charm to make someone’s ears grow bigger every day, just by a little, and it could only be stopped with a potion involving dragon dung!”

Eli grinned devilishly. Now here was something she could go on about. “Oh, you must’ve missed the last chapter then. I went through it all, even though I reckon I won’t be strong enough for some of the really serious ones just yet, and I think I found the best of the lot. There’s a curse to actually make someone forget how to talk! They walk around understanding everything and thinking they’re speaking normally when they’re actually babytalking. And there’s one to make all food taste like soap, or a modifier where it tastes like slug slime.” Glancing nervously at the front of the car, where Mr. Weasley sat driving away, and whispered, “Some of those were very intense, though. Like—cutting people up intense. Hopefully nobody makes me mad enough to use them.”

Fred gave her an appraising look. “Bloody hell, I’m glad we’re friends and not enemies.”

Eli tapped her nose and grinned. “Hasn’t happened yet. I learnt _diffindo_ last year and didn’t use it on anybody.”

“Not yet,” George snorted.

She just whistled innocently. Eli sat back as the car turned down a familiar street—she recognized it from when her parents drove her to Diagon Alley last year, and wondered for just a moment if she ought to miss them more. Being away at school should’ve been hard for most any eleven-year-old, but she’d been just fine. Of course she loved her parents, they were wonderful and had always loved her through her magic manifesting during childhood… And yet… She didn’t miss them. She was excited to go back to school, to be with her friends and go to classes… But not looking forward to going home after. Really she might be happier just spending summer with the Weasleys, but she couldn’t put that financial strain on them. It was all just so odd. Shouldn’t she miss her parents?

\--

In the couple days before school started back up, Fred and George spent nearly every waking moment practicing for Quidditch tryouts. They were determined to make Gryffindor’s team, no matter what it took—they wanted to be Beaters, and honestly Eli thought it was perfect for them—but she didn’t really _want_ all that practice. The twins told her she made an excellent Keeper, but Quidditch would take up so much time from studying and she had a whole new set of Slytherins to ward off…

“You’re sure you won’t try out?” asked Ginny Weasley when they’d finished—she usually kept her distance from the older girl, seeming very shy, except during Quidditch practice. “You’re a really good Keeper, honest.”

Eli shrugged and nudged the little practice broom. “I don’t actually have a broom of my own. And besides, I’ve got to keep up on my hexes, otherwise nobody will be afraid of me anymore.” That part she added with a wink. It wasn’t like she wanted Ginny afraid of her, but it was true—if she didn’t stay ahead of her classmates, she’d become a target, just like the year before.

With a little smirk, Ginny pointed out, “You’d be the first muggleborn on the team in an awful long time, you know.”

Ooh, that girl knew _exactly_ how to get to Eli! “Well…” She grinned reluctantly. “I won’t discount it yet, I suppose.” There. It was all she could allow, for the time being. First she needed to see how the new students treated her, and how the new seventh years acted.

After dinner—Eli helped with the washing-up, as she usually did—she retreated to the twins’ room to plan a few beginning-of-the-year pranks, go over school lists (despite Fred’s loud protests), and just enjoy themselves a bit before they had to worry about homework and tests and classes again. Sitting there, chatting, discussing the new hexes she’d learnt, Eli began to understand why muggleborns left the normal world behind in favor of the wizarding one. Who would ever want to go back really, when they could be part of something so much more…interesting?


	3. Do You Know this Witch?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have quite a bit written up, so I'm hoping if I post a few at a time it'll generate some attention, hah! As always, constructive criticism is welcomed & appreciated! <3

As it turned out, in Eli’s third year someone _far_ more interesting came to school, and suddenly nobody cared about the muggleborn in Slytherin anymore. Well, the Slytherins still cared, but a significant portion of them focused in on the twins’ little brother Ron’s famous friend—Harry Potter. Eli scarcely saw the kid, but when she happened to see him she always made a point to give him a friendly nod, since one of the new Slytherins had it out for him. A little toad called Draco Malfoy, who was a frequent—if unknowing—target of many of Eli’s hexes. He’d been dreadfully rude about the Weasleys, her semi-adoptive family, so by default she hated him.

But she hated him even more when he made the Slytherin Quidditch team in his second year, simply because his father offered to buy new brooms for the whole team. In fact, that was what prompted Eli to try out in her fourth year, despite the time it’d take away from her studies. Marcus Flint, the captain, was furious about it, but had to let her in since, in his own words, _‘That bloody muggleborn girl could fly circles around you and_ still _play Keeper!’_ An angry, hilarious phrase he’d used to shout the team’s old Keeper off the field. The best part of playing Quidditch was spending more time with the twins, who of course were Gryffindor’s Beaters. House teams be damned, they made a serious effort to keep her safe on the field when Bludgers flew too close, though she didn’t really need the help.

Fifth year brought the dreaded OWLs, and Eli spent most of the summer preparing, practicing, doing whatever she could to make up for the ridiculous phony Defense Against the Dark Arts professor they’d been saddled with the year prior—Guilderoy Lockhart, a man most girls swooned over. Eli liked to charm tiny paper spiders to cling to his jackets and whisper nasty things to him, and luckily she was never found out. Still, it was going to take a _lot_ of work to get up to the levels she wanted to before the year was out.

Eli, now fifteen—she had a summer birthday—was allowed to take the train down to the Weasleys’ house before the school year began, as she’d been doing for several years now. She met the twins at the station, with Mr. Weasley since he wouldn’t allow them into the muggle world unaccompanied just yet, and spent the drive to what she now considered a second home catching up and discussing what the year might bring.

“I’m hoping for an Outstanding in Potions,” Eli confided, as they entered the Burrow. “But I’m not sure, Professor Snape has been pushing me really hard lately.”

Fred snorted loudly. “As if he’d give you anything less. Everyone knows you’re the best in class.”

“Best in class doesn’t mean anything,” she grumbled, irate. “And anyway, I _need_ that mark if I want to work my way into Healing. Just because you two don’t have any academic goals doesn’t mean I don’t, you know.”

Smirking, George bumped her with his hip. “C’mon, Eli. You’ll do great. Besides, we’ve got the whole year to study, there’s loads of time.”

She shook her head wearily at them. Of course she loved the twins, but they really didn’t share the same work ethic, and every once in a while it grated on her. As time had passed, Eli had decided she wanted to be a Healer, especially after seeing all the awful things that could happen—Ginny Weasley had been placed in awful danger the past year, students had been Petrified as a monster roamed the halls… And at the center of it, Eli felt utterly useless, watching kids she knew go into the hospital wing and stay for days on end. She also wanted to be able to protect herself better, hence why DADA was so important. Naturally, Potions, DADA, Charms, and Herbology carried her focus, for her chosen career. So she was facing at minimum, _four_ OWLs at the end of the year. Ugh.

“Not as much as you think,” Eli pointed out.

Fred just ruffled her hair and strode past her, heading out into the back garden—probably for more Quidditch practice, or something. Eli took her things upstairs first, dragging them manually since she still had the Trace on, of course, and took the time to tame her blonde curls into two braids before going downstairs to join the twins.

They spent the afternoon outside, practicing, and Eli was glad to forget her school stresses for a little while. She helped with dinner, as always, and immersed herself back in the world she’d missed ever since the last school year had ended.

The next morning, everyone rose early for their trip down to Diagon Alley. Eli got a head start on breakfast, and had only just been joined by Mrs. Weasley—who was still trying to convince Eli to call her Molly—when Errol tumbled through the window, laden with a whole stack of Hogwarts letters. “Oh, poor thing,” Mrs. Weasley sighed, a bit exasperated. “Eli, will you be a dear and grab those?”

Eli stepped away from the pan she’d been minding and hurried to take the mess of seven letters from the overwrought owl, who promptly fell back out the kitchen window when she’d removed them. Grinning to herself, Eli scanned through them briefly—a fat envelope for Percy, whom she had no doubt was Gryffindor’s new Head Boy; four normal-sized ones for the twins, Ron, and Ginny; and two heavy ones she was a bit confused about. One bore her name, and the other her best friend Simon’s. “They’ve sent Simon’s here,” she commented, dropping the other five on the kitchen table for the others when they came down. “Is he coming by?”

Mrs. Weasley looked up from the stove and smiled widely. “Yes, didn’t Fred mention it? Oh, I expect he’s forgotten with all the excitement… Yes, Simon’s coming by this afternoon.” Her voice was nothing but kind and buoyant, which was nice, since Simon didn’t come by a lot and Eli was never quite sure what her wizarding-world-mum thought of him.

Making a mental note to smack Fred when he got downstairs, Eli placed that letter to the side, and leaned against the kitchen table to open her own.

“What’ve you got there, Eli?” asked George sleepily, rubbing at his eyes as he sort of stumbled down the stairs. “Did our letters arrive?”

Eli rolled her eyes and directed him to the neat stack she’d made—which he promptly ruined in his search for his own letter. But she ignored it, quite suddenly distracted, because she’d tipped her letter out and found a shiny metal pin along with the usual list.

“Blimey,” George murmured. “Did Snape make you a Prefect?”

She held the little pin up to the light, stunned to see an embossed _P_ in a green and silver setting. “I suppose so.” God, how many pureblood Slytherins would be furious she’d gotten this?! It was an honor, but a terrifying one at that, having to be in command of her fellow students—to an extent—and being placed on such a pedestal when she had no doubt her housemates would struggle to see her as an authority.

“Lucky,” Fred complained, making his appearance. “I can see from here that neither of us made the cut.”

Eli clenched the Prefect’s badge in her hand and rounded on him. “Why didn’t you tell me Simon was coming today?” she demanded, happy for the distraction. She’d never liked being the center of attention.

Fred winced and raked a hand through his hair. “Oh. I forgot, honestly. I wrote him ages ago about it.”

She smacked his arm, hard, and went back to her envelope, keeping her brand-new Prefect’s badge tight in her hand. The school list wasn’t too long now, though there was an addendum on her Potions list—in handwriting she recognized as Professor Snape’s. In fact, there was a short letter penned on the back of her list as well, in what looked like hurried script.

 

_Miss Chaplain,_

_I have added a few extra ingredients for you to obtain. If you are serious about your career as a Healer, and your continuation in my class, then I expect you to complete all the extra work I assign this year. These ingredients will be essential to your practice. Find me in my office if you have any trouble._

_Oh, and congratulations on your new position. Perhaps now you can simply assign detentions instead of sending students to the hospital wing._

_Professor Snape_

 

Eli grinned to herself. Even now, her head of house was still on her side. Even after four years of hexes, poisonings, and general mayhem—not to mention her choice of friends—Professor Snape still didn’t hate her. It was a veritable miracle, of course, but she’d take it. Nobody else seemed to like the man, but from day one he’d defended her place in Slytherin, and Hogwarts in general, so she was all right with him.

“Well, congratulations, Madame Prefect,” George teased, plucking the badge from her and tossing it from hand to hand.

“Doesn’t mean you can boss us around, though!” Fred laughed happily.

Eli held up Simon’s letter and shook it at him threateningly. “See this? Simon’s has a Prefect badge in it too, I’d bet my broomstick on it. So maybe I can’t give you detentions, sure, but he certainly can!”

“I can do what?”

She spun to see Simon walking into the kitchen, a crooked grin on his face. Eli beamed and rushed over to hug him, instantly worrying that he felt too thin, but she’d missed him so much she didn’t want to fuss at him just yet. To his credit, Simon didn’t even stagger when she rammed into him—he just laughed and wrapped his arms around her in return.

“Hey, Eli,” he greeted, standing back to hold her at arm’s length.

Eli dodged his attempt to tousle her hair and prodded his side. “How was France?” she asked, holding his letter behind her back.

Simon grimaced. “Ugh. It was so…French.” His aunt had taken him on a trip to France over the summer, to visit with his sister Rosalyn, much to Simon’s irritation—he hated France and the French, and didn’t exactly get on with his older sister very well to begin with, so the whole thing felt pointless to him.

“Well, that’s what you get for going to _France_ , Simes,” Fred told him brightly, draping an arm around the brunet’s shoulders and dragging him to the kitchen table. “Oi, Chaplain, show him what you’ve got behind your back!”

Rolling her eyes, Eli deposited Simon’s letter in his lap as she moved to sit beside him. George took her other side, framing the two in ginger, and Eli had a flash of how they must look—the muggleborn Slytherin girl and the misfit Gryffindor boy, almost protected by them, somehow held into spaces they didn’t quite fit by the twins’ acceptance. Stricken for a moment, Eli reached under the table and grabbed George’s hand tightly, her heart racing. Sometimes she really didn’t know what she was doing in this world, why she’d been pulled out of a muggle family to be part of all the magic and wonder the wizarding world had to offer.

Suddenly she realized exactly what she was doing and dropped his hand, flushing pink and avoiding his amused look. Mercifully he kept his mouth shut, though, instead choosing to comment on Simon’s new status as a Prefect. “So you’ll be getting us out of trouble then, right?”

Simon looked indignant. “I’m supposed to enforce the rules!”

“But we both know you can’t resist helping us,” Fred teased gleefully. “Or you can let us borrow it, if you’d like!” He snatched the badge from Simon’s fingers and leapt up, the other boy right behind him, tearing upstairs as fast as he could.

Mrs. Weasley turned in shock to see only one twin still at the table, while her other children filtered in, alongside Mr. Weasley. George simply waved at her.

“Did I see Simon chasing Fred upstairs?” Ron asked tiredly.

Eli nodded at him. “Fred stole his Prefect badge, so Simon went to kick his—er…” She glanced nervously at Mrs. Weasley, but she seemed totally preoccupied. “Simon went to kick his arse,” she declared.

“Eli! Language, please!”

She groaned as the Weasley children all laughed at her—except Percy, who looked thoughtful. “Simon’s a Prefect?” he commented. “Excellent, as it seems-” A wry, self-satisfied smile crept over his face. “-I’m Head Boy.”

A combination of happiness and complete horror rose up, only to be quelled as Mrs. Weasley brought food and began to fawn over Percy in delight. Having found their way back, Simon and Fred looked disgusted at the display, and when he sat back down, Simon asked Eli, “So…he’s the sodding Head Boy, then?”

“Unfortunately. The twins are never going to let up on us now that we’re Prefects either.” Eli flashed her own badge at him and smirked when his eyes widened.

“Snape made you Prefect? Well, I guess Myra Turpin was his only other choice and she’s awful, really…” Simon grinned widely. “I can only imagine how many detentions you’ll be giving out. D’you think you’ll set a new record?”

Eli waved him off. “I don’t think I’ll get away with that,” she laughed. “I think everyone will be much more afraid of me, though.”

“Good,” Simon declared, and helped himself to some potatoes.

A little hesitantly, Eli started eating too, though she was distracted for the most part. Why had Professor Snape made her Prefect? Was it as simple as discouraging her from hexing her fellow Slytherins when they started rumors or went after her? Or did he really have faith that she would do well in the position?

Someone touched her wrist lightly. “Eli, you all right?” George asked her under his breath. “I think mum’s getting worried you don’t like her food.”

Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley was giving Eli worried glances across the table—so Eli hurried to start eating again, realizing she’d paused and been staring off into space. “I’m fine, just…a lot on my mind,” she told George, not exactly lying.

He didn’t look much like he believed her, but let it slide anyway since she was eating. To her other side, Simon was enduring a lecture from Percy about how he was going to organize the Prefects as Head Boy, how much better it was going to be than previous years, and if Simon expected to keep his status he’d better take this seriously… And all the while, Fred was meticulously flicking bits of chipolata into Percy’s lap, while Simon tried desperately to keep a straight face about it. Eli let her worries fade into the background as she was swept up in conversation—there was no reason to stress over it just yet. She’d figure everything out at school.

\--

“I know we’re supposed to patrol the corridors,” Simon commented, “but I’m not sure they meant across houses.”

Eli grinned at him. “I’m quite sure they didn’t. But I’m certainly not doing this with Tobias Copper, he’s dreadful. Anyway, isn’t inter-house cooperation important?” She glanced into the compartment to her left as they walked—a handful of Gryffindors shot her nasty looks, and she wiggled her fingers at them happily. “Honestly though, you’re my shield against the Gryffindors, and I’m yours against the Slytherins. We’re safer together.”

“Can’t argue that,” he admitted easily. “So, what OWLs are you going for this year?”

She ticked them off on her fingers. “Potions, Charms, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts for sure. And I might add Transfiguration and Arithmancy, I’ve always enjoyed those.”

“Bloody hell,” Simon breathed. “You’re crazy, Eli.”

“Healer,” she reminded him.

He prodded her side. “Well, yes, but Transfiguration too? I’d never, not unless I had to. And I bet you want an Outstanding in all of them, huh?”

Eli twisted her mouth up but didn’t reply. Simon knew how she felt about her academics, she didn’t need to tell him—and anyway, she wanted to keep her options open. If she didn’t take the proper OWLs and becoming a Healer fell through, she didn’t want to end up without any choices.

They reached the end of the train and turned around, heading back to where the twins and Lee Jordan were sitting. They crossed into the proper carriage, and Eli was about to suggest they play a prank on the others—when the train suddenly ground to a halt, going dark and shuddering unnaturally. Eli leaned into the wall to steady herself, exchanging worried looks with Simon. “The train’s never stopped before,” she murmured, anxious. “Has it?”

“Not that I know…” Simon pressed his face to the window and peered outside. “It’s all gone dark… And it’s cold as all hell.”

Eli joined him at the window, a chill crawling down her spine as she looked at the Scottish countryside. She’d never thought about it, but if something went wrong, they were stranded in the middle of nowhere. How bloody dangerous!

A dark shape floated past the window and Eli recoiled with a yelp. “Something’s out there!” she hissed, looking outside for it again. She caught a glimpse of a few dark figures heading down the train, keeping a certain amount of distance as they moved with purpose, either going somewhere or…or looking for something. “They’re all going in that direction,” she whispered, pointing down past the boys’ compartment.

“What do you reckon they’re doing?” Simon breathed back. He tried to tilt his head sideways to get a better look, unsuccessfully.

“Looking for something. I’d bet anything.” A thought occurred to her. “Or someone.”

Behind her, a compartment opened, and a first year peeked out. “What’s happening?” the little brunette girl whispered, terrified.

Eli gently nudged her back inside. “Shh, just stay in your compartment, okay?” she told her kindly. “Don’t worry, we’ll be moving again soon.” It was an absolute lie, but it made the girl nod and duck back inside, so Eli didn’t feel badly about it. To Simon, she added, “Let’s go check on the others, come on.”

As it turned out, they didn’t need to go the whole way—Fred and George stepped out as they got close, peering down the corridor suspiciously.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Fred asked, squinting out the window.

Eli shrugged. “No idea. But I saw some things outside, these…dark shapes. I’m not sure what they were.”

“Dark shapes?” George rushed to the windows and looked out. Eli joined him, still wary, colder than before—when a face suddenly floated into view just outside. Beside her, George recoiled with a yell, but she was frozen in place. A memory was dancing in her mind, just out of reach… It smelled like old, rotted wood and chamomile and smoke, at once soothing and yet deeply saddening. The face drew closer, mouth agape, the only feature she could make out, and Eli felt herself drawn forward into the freezing cold, her eyes fixated on where the creature’s should be, though her vision was fogging with…something.

_An old house on a hill… Fire licking up the walls… A woman’s back as she turned, walking away… The sound of a baby crying, shrieking, until its little voice grew hoarse and gave out…_

“…the hell are you doing?!”

“I’m not going to hurt her, I just want to see if she’s all right, calm down.”

“Who are you anyway?”

“Your new professor,” the deeper voice replied curtly. “Now, will you please let me check on your friend?”

Eli shoved at the hand pressing to her pulse just under her chin. “I’m fine,” she grumbled, sitting up blearily. But a wave of dizziness struck her and she leaned into the train wall with her vision spinning. The train was moving again, she noted, and the lights were back on. But most importantly, there was a man crouched in front of her, looking both haggard and worried.

“You’re lucky they didn’t come in this end,” the man told her, not unkindly. “Just a few cars down they came right onto the train… I’m sure the Headmaster will be having words with the Ministry, they cannot be allowed that close to students, it’s…” But he broke off, shaking his head and giving her an odd look. “Never mind. How are you feeling?”

She nodded slowly, finally noticing the twins and Simon hovering nervously behind him, all looking various degrees of worried and distrustful. “I’m okay, I just…” What had happened? Eli didn’t really know. She’d seen those…those _things_ …and been flooded with memories she didn’t know existed…and then woken up on the floor in the corridor. “What were those things?” she asked, pushing back into a sitting position. “The…the dark creatures we saw. Did they stop the train?”

The Professor sighed wearily. “They’re called Dementors, and yes, they stopped the train, though they absolutely did not have permission to do that.” He passed her a foil packet of something and stood up, still looking just…exhausted. “Will you boys get her into the compartment, please?” he asked. “I’ve got to speak with the driver.”

As he left, Eli was swarmed by the boys, who all dropped to the floor around her. “Bloody hell, are you okay?” Simon asked worriedly.

“I’m fine, really,” she insisted. And it wasn’t a lie, exactly—she didn’t feel _anything_ like she’d felt with that creature around. “It was just…odd, that’s all.” She wasn’t sure that she should admit to the strange memories, so she kept that to herself, for the time being.

“What’d he give you?” Fred asked, tugging at her arm to be able to see.

Eli had forgotten about the Professor handing her anything. “Oh. I’m not sure.” She peeled the foil back to reveal—chocolate. Absently she bit into a square, and passed one around to the others, not wanting to keep it all to herself. “Do you know what Dementors are?” she asked curiously, to all of them.

The twins shook their heads, but Simon shifted uncomfortably. “I read about them… They’re the guards of Azkaban, the prison. Horrible things.”

Horrible was right, but Eli didn’t give voice to that. She just ate her chocolate and wondered about the Professor, why he’d been on the train with them—Professors usually Apparated straight into Hogsmeade—and why he’d looked at her so strangely. Was it because she’d reacted so poorly to the Dementors?

George was the first to decide they should get into their compartment, so he helped Eli to her feet—then the twins each took an arm over their shoulders and got her inside, since once she stood she realized her legs felt like jelly. Thankfully the boys were wonderful with her, cracking jokes and pretending everything was fine to get her mind off it, so by the time they reached the school Eli wasn’t bothered much at all. She was far too busy debating what their first prank of the year ought to be. And honestly, she might not have given the incident a second thought if it weren’t for the Professor, a man introduced as Remus Lupin, giving her sidelong looks through the whole feast.

As part of her duties as a Prefect, Eli had to split from her friends after the feast and led the newly sorted Slytherins to the dormitories, since most of the other Prefects seemed too concerned with themselves to bother. Thankfully it meant the little first years liked her immediately, since she bothered to take care of them.

The next morning, classes began, and for Eli, so did OWLs preparation. She started bright and early with Potions, shared with Gryffindor as per usual, then Charms with the Hufflepuffs, followed by a break—which she spent in the courtyard with the twins and Simon—and finally, Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class she’d been looking forward to, if only because Professor Lupin was teaching it and she was desperately curious to know why he’d been so apparently interested in her. Not to mention she loved the subject, honestly. She’d always excelled at it.

To her surprise, Simon sat down right beside her, crossing the aisle and dropping his books at the table. Eli looked around, confused, before she noted all the other desks were full up. “I think they’ve finally caught wind we don’t care about houses,” Simon confided, grinning. “We’ve got odd numbers of each house.”

“Brilliant.” Eli beamed across the aisle at the twins, who looked just as pleased with the arrangements.

Professor Lupin stepped out of his office and took the front of the room, giving a warm but slightly nervous look to the classroom. “Well! Good day to you all. As you know, at the end of the year, you’ll be taking your Ordinary Wizarding Levels, your OWLs, which I’m sure you’re quite nervous about, yes?” The professor rested his hands on the back of his chair and gave them all a serious look. “Now, last year, I know your education was…less than satisfactory, yes? We’ve got a lot to make up for, so expect to be pushed, hard, this year. I will make myself available in the evenings and on the weekends as well, in case you need assistance.” He clapped his hands once. “Shall we get started, then?”

Their task for the day was to learn _protego maxima_ , a much stronger form of the commonly-used _protego_ , which of course showed that a good percentage of the class hadn’t even mastered _protego_ yet, so they switched back to that instead. The professor seemed amused by it, not upset, and was in good spirits when class let out. He assigned two inches of parchment on the Patronus Charm, suggesting they’d be learning it soon, but left the substance of the assignment so general that it’d be an easy one.

After that class, Eli had a free period, so she hovered until the end. The boys seemed concerned, but she waved them off, promising to meet them for lunch afterwards. She just really needed to understand what was happening here.

“Ah, Miss Chaplain, wasn’t it?” Professor Lupin said, coming to lean on the desk the twins had just vacated. “How are you feeling?”

Eli dropped all pretenses of actually packing her things up and faced him, a touch uncomfortable. “I’m all right, thank you. Um, Professor…”

He nodded sagely. “You’re wondering why I’ve seemed…perhaps a bit confused by you, am I right?”

Damn. He was good. “Yes, sir,” she admitted quietly.

The professor smiled kindly at her. “Tell me, Miss Chaplain… Do you know of a woman named Evangeline McKinnon?” he asked, all curiosity and nothing suspicious. Still, Eli felt wary—why was he asking her about some strange woman?

“Er, no, I’m sorry,” she told him. Drawing on some of her Slytherin fire, she added, “Who is she? And what would she have to do with me?”

He shook his head. “Oh, it’s a long story—she was a friend of mine, and she’s gone now, but you’re the absolute spitting image of her. My apologies if I’ve bothered you, it’s just a strange thing to see a ghost from your past, or, well, to think you’ve seen one.”

Eli realized instantly what he’d been suggesting, but it couldn’t be true, after all. “I—I’m muggleborn, sir, if that helps. You wouldn’t have known my parents.”

The professor gave her an odd look, like he didn’t quite believe what she’d said. But why wouldn’t he? She wasn’t lying and he had no cause to think she would, besides her supposed resemblance to some woman he knew. If he hadn’t seemed so genuinely innocent in his intentions, she would’ve been disturbed by the whole thing. He came off as perfectly harmless, though, if a bit confused. “Well, no matter. I’m sorry to have bothered you, Miss Chaplain.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Yes, he was absolutely harmless, questions or not. “Oh, it’s no problem, professor. Actually…” Eli drew herself up. “I’m hoping to achieve an Outstanding in this class, sir, but after last year, I know that’s going to be difficult. Are there any other books you might direct me to? Or any extra spells I ought to know?”

That made him light up. “Absolutely. I do accept students with Exceeds Expectations, but I understand the ambition… Tomorrow after class I’ll have some selections for you. And I’ll let you know, we are working on Patronus Charms next, so I’d read up on that before class too.”

Eli grinned widely. Yes! She was all right in her other classes, and Professor Snape was already assigning her extra practice for her OWLs, but she’d been worried about DADA. It was wonderful to know Professor Lupin would assist her in her goals. In fact, he seemed more than happy he had a student in class who was actually interested in the subject. What with the decrease in dark magic recently, far less people were focusing on it. She was looking forward to the year, suddenly.

\--

“So what did you want with Lupin?” George asked, through a mouthful of shepherd’s pie.

Eli cocked an eyebrow at him. “Do you chew your food, or just choke it down like a dog?” she asked him dryly. George kicked her under the table, so she kicked him back before adding, “He’d been giving me funny looks all day. Apparently I remind him of some woman he knew, some witch named, er, Evangeline McKinnon.”

Simon perked up. “McKinnon? They were all killed during the first war, I thought.”

“Yeah, I think mum and dad have a photo with a couple McKinnons in it on the mantle.” Fred shrugged lightly. “Maybe over the holidays you can check it out, Eli. You might be a long-lost cousin or something.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I can’t be, Fred. My family’s all non-magical, and besides, I know a lot of our genealogy, there aren’t any McKinnons in it anywhere.” Leaning in conspiratorially, she added, “He did tell me we’re working Patronus Charms next for sure, though. And those are _really_ hard, so I’d get some practice in first.”

“Ugh,” George groaned.

“Practice,” Fred added, whining.

Eli kicked at them both. “Shove off. You’re taking that OWL, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” George admitted. “But I still hate practicing outside class.”

She wrinkled her nose and flipped a few strands of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Lazy arse,” she muttered under her breath.

“I heard that!”


	4. A Night in the Great Hall (Eli Takes Charge)

“Aw, cheer up, Eli.” Simon patted her shoulder comfortingly. “Nobody else could do it either.”

Eli stuffed her DADA book into her bag crossly, scowling at nothing in particular. “I really thought I had it,” she muttered. “I was up half the night thinking of a memory.”

From his desk, Professor Lupin failed to stifle a laugh. “Well, that’s why, then,” he commented. “You can hardly expect to produce a Patronus on your first try when you haven’t slept.” Turning to look at the pair, he added, “We have class again on Friday, don’t we? Try getting a good night’s rest beforehand and see if you fare any better.”

“Why are we learning the Patronus this year, Professor?” Simon asked curiously. “I thought only NEWT students learnt that.”

The professor smiled a bit thinly. “Well, as you both know, we’ve found ourselves hosting that—flock of Dementors out there this year, due to Sirius Black’s recent escape. I know it’s a bit advanced, but I thought since this is the year students are given more responsibilities, it would be prudent for you to learn how to protect yourselves. After that incident on the train… You were not the only student affected, Miss Chaplain, you see, so I’ve decided it’s important sooner rather than later.”

Eli considered that. “So you think we might need to protect ourselves from the Dementors, then? You don’t trust that we’re safe?”

“I think it’s already been proven we aren’t,” Professor Lupin told her gravely.

A chill ran through her, despite the warmth inside the castle. That much was true. The Dementors had already gone outside their boundaries, who was to say they wouldn’t do it again?

The next few weeks passed mostly uneventfully. Eli split her focus between Quidditch practice and homework, and admittedly her playing suffered a little, but the small mercy was that Professor Snape cared quite a bit about the Slytherin Quidditch team doing well—so with their first match of the season approaching, one against their rivals in Gryffindor, he doled out homework with a measure of leniency, at least to the fifth years. It definitely helped with her anxiety, at least.

Finally, the day of the match came. Eli went down to breakfast in her Quidditch gear, as always, and sat down with Simon and the twins to eat. It was her normal, daily routine, but it earned angry stares from Marcus Flint this time around. Apparently he was nervous, she noted.

“So, as always, we steer clear of each other, right?” George asked, grinning.

Eli bumped him with her shoulder. “As always. Except in cases of imminent danger.”

“Or if you can’t stand to be apart from us,” Fred teased gleefully. “Should be an interesting match today, though.”

“Yeah, weather’s been a bit dodgy today,” agreed George.

Simon looked a bit worried—sports really weren’t his forte. “You all had better stay safe,” he warned. “No more hospital wing visits, please? It drives me damn crazy, having to spend the night in there after every bleeding match.”

“No promises, Simes!” Fred laughed, tousling Simon’s hair fondly and making the brunet swat at him.

“Ugh, one of these days I’m just not gonna go,” Simon declared.

Eli giggled and made a face at him. “Sure.”

After breakfast, Eli headed down to the Quidditch pitch with the twins, chatting amiably and feeling wholly unworried about the game. Playing against Gryffindor, despite the rivalry, was her favorite match-up because it really didn’t matter who won. It was all a healthy competition, and no matter what, either she or some of her best friends would win, so she could really just enjoy it instead of fighting tooth and nail to beat their opponents.

At the pitch, she parted ways from them and headed into the changing rooms alone, since she was the only girl on the team after all. Eli mucked about cleaning her broom for a little, before pulling the rest of her gear on and heading into the antechamber they flew out from.

“Fraternizing with the enemy again?” Malfoy drawled, giving her a sneer.

Eli smirked. “Yeah, currently,” she retorted easily.

Malfoy made a move to hit her, but a couple other teammates held him back, while Flint glared at her. “Don’t start shit again, Chaplain,” he growled out. “You’re only on this team because you’re the best Keeper in the house, but don’t think you’re better than anyone because of that.”

God, he was just setting it up, wasn’t he? “Oh, I don’t think I’m better than anyone just because I’m a good Keeper,” she told him, her voice deceptively innocent. “I think it because it’s _true_.”

“Keep your mouth shut, mudblood,” Malfoy snarled at her.

Eli looked at him appraisingly, giving it a moment of thought, before she announced, “Detention, tomorrow evening.” When his jaw dropped, she beamed at him and added, “Goodness, did you all forget I’m a Prefect? The _only_ Prefect on the team? Such a shame. Well, you might want to remember it, because I’ll stick all your arses in detention if you talk to me that way.”

And with that, she jerked a thumb towards the field. “Now, gentlemen, it’s time to go, isn’t it?”

Eli flew onto the field just behind Flint with a broad smile on her face. The twins noticed and made silly faces at her while Madame Hooch spoke to the teams before the match began, and Eli had the hardest time keeping a straight face instead of bursting out laughing at their antics.

Then the whistle was blown, and the game was on.

\--

“You missed that last shot on purpose!”

“Why the hell would I do that?!”

Draco Malfoy was standing _much_ too close to Eli, and even though they were around the same height, in fact she was a bit taller than him, she couldn’t help but be intimidated just a little. Usually nobody messed with him—and not because he was so scary on his own. No, his father was the one to fear, a man with loads of power within the Ministry of Magic, who supposedly could ruin a person, or their parents, if it suited him. Her parents were muggles, of course, and therefore not at risk, but her whole future could be destroyed by just a few words from Lucius Malfoy.

Still. Eli wasn’t going to let his snotty brat of a son bully her. “Back off, Malfoy,” she ordered, crossing her arms. “If you’re trying to test me, the answer is yes, I _will_ give you two detentions in one day.” Then she spun and went to walk away.

He grabbed her arm tightly and spun her around, stunning her into silence. “Don’t you dare walk away from me,” he growled out.

“Hey!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, the twins rushed in, Fred grabbing Malfoy by the scruff of his Quidditch kit and George stepping in front of Eli protectively. “You don’t touch her,” Fred told him, giving him a threatening shake. “Got it?” George brandished his wand in front of him, making Malfoy’s eyes go wide.

Panicked, the blond sprinted away the moment his feet touched the ground, screeching something about his father—an idle threat, considering he looked ready to piss his pants. “I hate him,” Fred grumbled.

George touched Eli’s arm gently, near where Malfoy had grabbed it. “You okay, Eli?”

She nodded slowly, surprised they’d come to her defense like that. “I’m fine… You really didn’t need to do that, you know, I wasn’t afraid of him. He just caught me off guard, usually Malfoy isn’t so…physical.” Eli scowled after him, already plotting what hex to use for a bit of revenge within the next few days. Seventy-two hours was just long enough for him to get complacent, she figured…

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Fred joined his twin in examining her arm, but Eli just smiled and batted their hands away. Really, she was fine, she didn’t even think the boy had enough strength in his limbs to actually _hurt_ her—she was mostly just bothered that she’d frozen up instead of fighting back. But who ever thought Draco Malfoy had the guts to grab a Prefect, especially one with such a reputation of seeking revenge on anyone who mucked with her?

George prodded her side lightly. “Already planning your revenge, are you?”

At that comment, Fred perked up and abandoned his attempts to keep checking her arm out. “Ooh, revenge, perfect. We’d love to help.”

Usually Eli planned alone, but the twins were so eager she couldn’t quite tell them no—so they changed into their normal clothes and staked out a spot on the big, gnarled tree in their favorite courtyard to sit and decide exactly how to exact revenge upon Eli’s unpleasant housemate. The twins were desperate for something big, but she hadn’t avoided being officially caught by making any grand gestures, so they had to be talked down from that. Instead she favored a subtler plan… Turning his hair brassy yellow over the span of a fortnight, for example. Or hexing him so all his food tasted like dragon dung.

They were deep in a discussion on how to charm his reflection to insult him every time he looked in a mirror when Professor McGonagall swept into the courtyard. “There you are, we’ve been looking everywhere!” She sounded awfully flustered. Eli glanced at the sky—it was dark out, yes, but she didn’t think it was curfew yet.

“Is something wrong, Professor?” she asked, before the twins could come up with a witty comment.

Professor McGonagall gave her a serious look. “I’m afraid so, Miss Chaplain. You see…” She broke off and sighed so deeply, like she hated to give this news. “Sirius Black was spotted inside the castle. All the students will be sleeping in the Great Hall tonight, you’re all expected there in half an hour’s time.”

Eli hid her fear behind a nod and the sudden need to put her books away. “I ought to run to the dormitories, then,” she commented as lightly as she could, despite her suddenly trembling hands. A murderer was in the castle! They were under such a threat that the Headmaster had ordered all the students to sleep in the Great Hall, which she had _never_ heard of. Why would he even come to Hogwarts? What would bring him into the castle’s walls? How did they even know he was there? And more than that…how did nobody catch him when he was spotted? But she didn’t ask any of that. Instead Eli just shouldered her bag and kept her mouth shut tightly.

“Will you two accompany Miss Chaplain to her dormitory and then to the Great Hall?” the professor asked of the twins, her voice tight with worry. “I don’t want any students wandering around on their own, and considering the circumstances I’m sure the rules on house dormitories can be bent just a touch.” She set her mouth in a thin line and eyed them both sharply. “ _Only_ the common room, do you understand?”

“Yes, professor!” they chorused, both looking quite important as they stepped to Eli’s side.

Professor McGonagall nodded, apparently satisfied. “Good. I’ll see you three in the Great Hall in no more than half an hour.” And with that, she hurried out of the courtyard, no doubt after any other errant students.

“You really don’t need to take me all the way into the dungeons and back,” Eli told the twins once she was gone.

Fred raised an eyebrow at her. “We were going to anyway, if McGonagall hadn’t asked.”

“Do you really think we’d just let you go off alone with Black loose somewhere?” George pointed out, crossing his arms. “Fat chance.”

Eli huffed at them—but secretly, she was glad for it. She hadn’t fancied the idea of venturing down to the dungeons by herself, not with Sirius Black around especially, since the trip down could get eerie at night even without a murderer lurking in the school. God, though, they were being allowed inside the Slytherin dormitory? That was utterly unheard of! But she had express permission, and to be fair, she couldn’t imagine Professor Snape arguing against a little extra protection, though Eli was sure she could handle herself.

They trekked down the long, winding stone staircase that led to the Slytherin dormitories, Fred and George lightening the mood by cracking jokes and discussing the dreary location the whole way. Eli was grateful they were being so chipper about it, though she knew they were worried. Why else did they have their wands out?

Finally, they reached the unremarkable stone wall that concealed the entrance. Eli hesitated a moment, uncertain about revealing the password to a pair of Gryffindors, but figured it’d be changed soon anyway. “ _Echis carinatus_ ,” she pronounced carefully.

Conscious of the twins’ fascinated gazes, Eli led the way into the now-revealed passageway, which opened out into the Slytherin common room.

“I thought it’d be…”

“Slimier?”

Eli glared at them. “Just because it’s in a dungeon,” she sighed wearily. The common room was beautiful, she thought, subaquatic and vaguely piratic, somehow, with the same luxurious feel she thought a pirate captain’s quarters might have. Everything was beautiful and ornate, all green and silver and serpent-themed, of course, but the furniture was decidedly _not_ just for aesthetic purposes. It was all ridiculously comfortable, the height of luxury, and oftentimes her bed for the night.

Fred nodded appraisingly. “It’s not bad, though. Nothing on Gryffindor’s, but it’s got a sort of…”

“Charm?” George completed again. He sank happily into the nearest armchair and crossed his legs. “Well, go on, Chaplain, get your things. Don’t want to be caught by any of your housemates.”

“Too much red for them,” Fred laughed brightly.

Eli stared them down. “Don’t touch _anything_ , okay?” she demanded. “And just…keep an eye out for anyone else coming in.”

George saluted her. “Naturally.”

With a roll of her eyes, Eli headed up to her room to gather her things. She grabbed her spare schoolbag and tucked her most modest pyjamas inside, an extra pair of socks, some house shoes, her hairbrush, plus toothpaste and toothbrush, and finally a change of clothes, just in case. Then she donned her school robes and headed back down—where Fred and George had begun tossing a silver serpent figurine around.

“Oi! Cut it out!” Eli snapped, hurrying to snatch it from George’s hands and replacing it on the mantle.

Fred snickered at her. “C’mon, Eli, we were just messing around.”

She crossed her arms at them, irate. “You know who’ll be at fault if anything gets broken because of you two? _Me_. And I’ve got enough problems with my housemates as it is, without you mucking it up even more.”

Chagrinned, they apologized, and followed her out of the dormitory with one last backwards look.

\--

That night, tossing and turning in a quiet corner of the Great Hall, Eli found sleep was just evading her. She was conscious of every little sound, every footstep the patrolling teachers took, every murmur from a sleeping student… It was maddening. She’d chosen to sleep away from her house, feeling much more comfortable instead taking her bedroll and finding a place between Simon and the twins, with Lee Jordan near her feet and Ginny near her head. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel safe, necessarily—Headmaster Dumbledore was pacing nearby, and she knew Black wouldn’t try anything with so much security—but something just felt…off in the world. Eli had never known a feeling like it before. Yet she was certain something was very, very wrong, perhaps even beyond a dangerous criminal being inside their school. She just didn’t know how she knew.

Eventually, Eli gave up on sleep and rolled over to face away from the teachers and the rest of the hall, popping her eyes open to see if it was getting light out yet. It wasn’t, but in the dim light from the hall’s galaxy ceiling, she could see George was wide awake too. “Can’t sleep?” he whispered.

Eli shook her head tiredly. “You too?”

He nodded, glancing over her shoulder to ensure the teachers hadn’t noticed them talking. “Can hardly get my eyes to stay shut.”

“Are you…” She hesitated, not really wanting to offend him. But then she decided to ask anyway. “Scared?”

George smirked. “Are you?”

She scrunched up her nose in distaste. “Discomfited?” she offered.

He suddenly made a quick gesture to her and shut his eyes, so Eli evened out her breathing and waited, listening to the footsteps of a teacher coming close, and then fading off again. When it was safe, she nudged George to get his attention, not wanting to suffer a sleepless night alone.

“Everything’s just…odd, right now,” George agreed softly.

Eli reached out and took his hand, needing some kind of connection with someone in that moment. “It’s all gonna be different now, isn’t it?” she mused, not really asking a question. “After this, it just… Things won’t be the same.”

“I think you’re right.”

She sighed to herself and nodded. At least she wasn’t alone.

They talked a little more after that, until the Great Hall began to fill with soft white morning sunlight, and finally, Eli drifted off, her hand still caught in George’s.

\--

The next week, Eli took her usual seat next to Simon in the DADA classroom, eager to continue their previous lesson on dark arts usage of snake venom—only to find out, as class began, that Professor Lupin was _‘out sick’_ and Professor Snape was subbing in. She liked her head of house, but had been looking forward to seeing Professor Lupin again. He was quickly becoming one of her favorite teachers, encouraging her with books and extra spells, not to mention aiding her in casting a Patronus, which she still hadn’t managed.

She put on a brave face about it until the professor announced their subject for the day. Werewolves.

Immediately, Eli stuck her hand in the air. “Excuse me, Professor, but we learnt about werewolves years ago,” she told him calmly. “We were working through snake venoms, actually, we’d just reached-”

“I am aware of Professor Lupin’s class schedule,” he interrupted her, a bit sharply. “However, I feel this class is in need of a refresher, from what I hear.”

Eli frowned but kept her mouth shut—no reason to anger him unnecessarily. So they’d spend a week on werewolves instead of snake venoms, so what, she’d just research on her own and catch up once Professor Lupin was back. Easy. So she obediently copied down what Professor Snape was telling them, even though she knew it practically by heart at that stage, and meanwhile ran through the counter-curses and anti-jinxes they’d learnt so far.

After class, she absently followed Simon and the twins to lunch, not really paying much attention until she stumbled down a step and rammed straight into a first year. “Oh, sorry!” Eli gasped, stepping back to check on her.

The brunette girl beamed up at her. “That’s okay, Miss Chaplain,” she chirped.

Eli studied her a moment—a Slytherin, with a Hufflepuff girl not too far behind. The little one from the train, in fact, who’d gotten so worried when the Dementors stopped the train. “I didn’t catch your name, I’m sorry,” she told the girl kindly. “And you don’t need to call me _Miss Chaplain_ , Eli is just fine.”

The girl blushed red as a cherry. “I’m Nancy Clements.” She practically jumped out of her skin to drag her little friend up beside her, though the Hufflepuff looked terrified. “And this is Ada Greenbrier.”

“Nice to meet you, Ada,” Eli greeted, smiling. “And you too, officially, Nancy.” She cast a look around for her friends, who were waiting at the entrance to the Great Hall, looking half amused and half impatient. Well, they could wait. Eli had a whole new generation of students to either terrify into submission, or befriend so they knew Slytherin wasn’t all bad. But it seemed Nancy had a head start on that, befriending a Hufflepuff.

Then she spotted a group of first year Slytherin boys giving the two girls some very nasty looks, and understood the situation in moments.

Eli straightened and adjusted her Prefect’s badge, noticing the boys’ eyes going enormous, and then grasped a shoulder each on the girls. “Now, remember, you’ll want to use _petrificus totalus_ if those boys get to bothering you too much, okay? And if they get really bad, just remind them you know a Slytherin Prefect who’ll hex them into next term.”

Nancy giggled at that, while Ada looked stunned and impressed. “Thanks, Eli!” Nancy gushed, excitedly pulling her friend away and making room for Eli to pass.

“That was uncharacteristically nice of you,” Fred teased as she caught up to the group.

Eli tossed her hair. “Nonsense. They shouldn’t be afraid of a few scrawny first year boys. Believe me, I know how dreadful Slytherin boys can be in their first year, I’d hate to leave them vulnerable to that.” She tried and failed to hide a smile. “Besides, they’re different houses, I’d like to encourage that. Not all Slytherins are terrible.”

“Just most of them,” George snickered, tugging on her hair as they sat down.

She grinned toothily at him and sang out, “Yes, and most Gryffindors are arseholes.” Even though the boys protested loudly, it was all in good fun, and Eli was able to enjoy the friendly debate on the merits of each house. It didn’t mean anything, after all, they got into this all the time.

What she didn’t miss, though, was Professor Snape eyeing her from across the hall.

\--

The holidays came on fast, and as classes picked up, so did Quidditch. Eli spent many late nights in the Slytherin common room, trying to finish homework or even brewing extra potions for class. Professor Snape had her working almost twice as hard as the rest of the class—but she absolutely _had_ to get an Outstanding to continue into his NEWT program, so she did it without complaint. She definitely struggled to make Quidditch practice, and missed a couple, to Flint’s extreme displeasure, but she did show up for every game. They won their next set of games, against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and then had a short break because Malfoy had gotten himself injured somehow, leaving Gryffindor to play against Hufflepuff, a match which Eli planned to attend in full red and gold regalia.

Before the match, Eli waltzed right into the Gryffindor changing rooms like she owned the place—but the team was already dressed, and just waiting for the match to start. Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell gave her friendly nods as she passed, beelining for the twins.

“Hey, Eli!” George greeted happily, catching her in a quick hug and spinning her for a moment.

“Aw, did you come to see us off?” Fred beamed and went to ruffle her hair, but she ducked away from him. He chased her for a moment, laughing, until she managed to grab the nearest broom and brandish it at him.

Eli shook her head fiercely. “Oh no you don’t, Frederick Weasley!” she told him sharply. “I worked all morning on these braids!” It was true—she’d woken up early to braid her hair in two complex plaits, woven through with ribbons of red and gold she’d enchanted to shimmer and glow, and set off small fireworks every time Gryffindor scored. There was absolutely no way she was letting Fred ruin them.

“Er… Can I have my broom back now?” a voice asked from behind.

She whirled to see Harry Potter standing awkwardly nearby, his eyes on the broom she was holding. Shamefully, she realized it _wasn’t_ a spare broom, in fact it was a very nice one belonging to the Gryffindor Seeker. Blimey. “Sorry, Harry,” Eli apologized sheepishly, and passed it back to him.

He grinned faintly and shrugged it off. “No worries.”

Oliver Wood rose then, giving Eli a bit of a disparaging look. “All right, it’s time to get going,” he announced pointedly.

Eli resisted the urge to hex him as he turned and walked away, instead giving the twins a hug and wishing them good luck before she hurried out of the changing rooms and up into the stands. Just as the players flew onto the field, she found a great spot next to a handful of friendly faces—Ron and Ginny Weasley, their friend Hermione Granger, and a few other Gryffindors who had come to accept her presence.

“Blimey, this weather,” she murmured, casting a quick rain-repelling charm over the group. “You’d think they would’ve canceled the match.”

Ginny grimaced at her. “With how the weather’s been, I don’t think they’d have another choice.” She peered up at the skies, no doubt looking for her brothers in the rain and cloud cover. “I swear, someone’s going to get hurt this match,” she grumbled.

Hermione looked worried. “I hope not.”

As the match wore on, anxiety-inducing if only from the ever worsening conditions—lightning had begun striking, and from the murmurs in the stands, people were getting worried—Eli felt that same sense of _wrongness_ that had pervaded her thoughts the other week creeping up again. It struck her as familiar, not from the nights in the Great Hall but from before, something nudging at the back of her mind…

“Bloody hell!”

Horrified exclamations began cropping up all around, and Eli extended the reach of her charm to try and see better. High above the pitch, in the wickedly-dark storm clouds, even darker shapes moved, too fluidly to be birds or players. Eli felt sick as she recognized them. Dementors. Bloody Dementors!

“Everyone, stay in your seats!” Eli shouted, tapping her wand to her throat to make her voice louder. The spell wasn’t as strong as she would’ve liked, but it did the trick, making the anxious Gryffindors and Ravenclaws nearby shuffle into sitting positions. Acting quickly, instinct overriding her fear, Eli cast a charm to send a small bird across the pitch to the teachers’ box, speaking quickly to create a message and alert them to the situation. Then she created a second bird and sent it into the field, charming it to tell all the players of the sudden threat.

She was just turning to begin evacuating the stand when she caught a figure tumbling from the sky, down towards the field. Eli held her wand out, but hesitated, afraid to harm them—and mercifully, she could see his progress slow and halt just at the bottom, allowing him to land safely on the grass. All around, players were landing, confused, and Eli’s bird fizzled out of existence as its job was finished.

A loud voice, magically amplified, echoed across the field. “All students, remain in your seats. Prefects and Head Students, you may evacuate your stands one row at a time. If you do not have a Prefect or Head Student in your stand, wait for a professor to come and dismiss you. The danger has passed, you are safe. Remain calm.” The Headmaster. Thankfully he had enough authority to carry that command out, for all around, students were going eerily quiet. Madame Hooch was down on the pitch, dismissing the players, and Eli caught the faintest hint that Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff had caught the Snitch in the chaos. Damn.

Squinting down at the pitch, she couldn’t quite see who had fallen, but thankfully she could make out the twins even from far away, standing anxiously near their fallen teammate with the others. “Did you see who fell?” Ron asked her worriedly.

Eli shook her head. Beside her, a Gryffindor named Neville Longbottom pulled out an old pair of binoculars, and pressed them to his face. “Oh my god, it’s-”

But Eli snatched the binoculars and pressed her hand over his mouth. “Shush, Neville,” she told him in a harsh whisper, scowling. “Don’t panic everyone. Tell me quietly and we’ll go from there, please, I don’t want everyone running out of here all at once.”

He nodded weakly, and so she passed him his binoculars back. “It’s Harry,” he squeaked. “Harry Potter.”

Eli just uttered one word, under her breath. “Fuck.”

Drawing her strength up, Eli cleared her throat as she realized she was the only goddamned Prefect in a sea of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, with the occasional Hufflepuff dotted around. The odd one out—and yet somehow in charge of these kids, some of whom were actually _older_ than her. Well, but what did it matter? Dumbledore had declared Prefects and Head Students in charge, so that made these students her responsibility, no matter the circumstances. So, tipping her wand back against her throat, she called out, “Okay, front row, please proceed down the stairs and follow your teachers back into the castle!” Something felt wrong, though… Making a snap decision, she added, “First years, please remain in your seats, I’ll take you back myself.”

“Why should we listen to you?” a Gryffindor second year yelled out. “You’re a Slytherin Prefect!”

She crossed her arms. No way was a twelve-year-old going to intimidate her, especially not under these circumstances. “I could say because of the Dementors, because we could all be in danger,” she told him icily. “But I want to ask you a question instead. Do you think you could protect us, if something happened?”

The boy looked up at the sky fearfully, where a few Dementors still lurked, slowly trickling away from the area. “No,” he admitted in a whisper.

Eli nodded once, firmly. “Anyone else want to question me? Or can we get on with it?” When nobody spoke up again, she continued getting the second years and up out of the stand, surprised and pleased when Ron and Ginny’s group gave her appreciative smiles as they passed. At least some people respected the effort she was going to, despite how bloody wild the day was turning out to be. It cost her a lot to keep together, and she knew she’d be spending the night in the common room, not sleeping at all… But it was worth it when, after the last row cleared out, the first years swarmed her, clutching at her clothes or hands as she got them down the stairs and then into the school safely.

“Miss Chaplain! A moment, please,” Professor Snape called as she ushered the last of her flock of first years into the castle’s main doors.

Eli looked up, surprised—she hadn’t even noticed him there. But she hurried to part ways with a small Hufflepuff girl who was still clinging to her robes, terrified. Luckily Professor Sprout showed up to usher the girl off, thanking Eli profusely, so she was able to cross to her head of house.

“You sent those birds out, did you not?” he asked, only curious rather than accusatory, like she’d expected.

“Yes, sir,” she told him honestly.

Professor Snape nodded. “That was quick thinking. You alerted us long before we would’ve seen something was amiss.” He gave her a rare half-smile. “So making you Prefect was a good idea after all, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, you behaved most admirably, Miss Chaplain,” a different voice told her kindly.

The Headmaster! Eli flushed right down to her toes at the praise, surprised he’d gone out of his way to find her since no doubt, he had other matters to attend to what with the Dementors overstepping again. “Th-thank you, sir,” Eli murmured.

Professor Dumbledore smiled at her as he approached. “I believe a reward is in order… Shall we say one hundred points to Slytherin, for a Prefect’s quick thinking in a time of danger?”

Eli couldn’t help the way her eyes bugged out. She hardly said a word to him as he complimented her again and left, and Professor Snape dismissed her to ensure the other Slytherin students got back to their dormitories all right. But as she turned to go, a thought occurred to her, and she blurted, “Sir, might I have permission to go to the hospital wing afterwards?”

He eyed her, a bit distastefully, but nodded in the end. “Very well.”

So after she’d taken care of her Prefect duties, Eli hurried back up to the hospital wing, where the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team had assembled, it seemed, plus several others from the house who she recalled were friends of Harry Potter’s. She was grateful to see the twins there, as well as several of the Gryffindors who had been in the stand with her during the match. Neville in particular waved at her, seeming much less afraid than he had before.

“Oh, Eli, there you are!” Fred beckoned her over, and she obliged, confused as to why the Gryffindors all looked so…happy with her.

“We’ve been telling everyone what you did today,” George explained, gesturing at the others. “With the birds, warning everybody. And we heard you did some good work up in the stands too, didn’t you?”

Eli blushed, but forced it down moments later. “I just did what I was supposed to,” she pointed out.

Neville looked at her admiringly. “I heard most of the other Prefects just bailed, actually. They panicked too much. And _nobody_ else took care of the first years, I heard that from McGonagall herself. All the first years in our house were asking after you.” He beamed at her. “How did you enchant those birds, too?”

“Oh, I…” She hesitated. Since she’d still been unable to conjure a Patronus, Professor Lupin had taught her the spell, even helping her master it silently so her message came through clearer. He said that way, if something happened, she could send for help instantly at the very least. “I learnt it for Defense Against the Dark Arts extra credit,” she lied calmly. No need to admit to all these people she hardly knew that she couldn’t find a memory quite happy enough to support a Patronus.

“That’s a brilliant bit of spellwork,” Hermione told her genuinely.

Eli smiled at her, but just didn’t know what to say. Other than Fred, George, and Simon, the Gryffindors mostly ignored her or just treated her very blandly, not…not like they were _friends_. Yet here she was surrounded by friendly, warm Gryffindors, who for once weren’t judging her for being a Slytherin. They just appreciated _her_.

Harry woke up then, thankfully distracting the others and taking the focus off Eli. She felt awful for him, having to hear that not only did Gryffindor lose, his broom apparently had flown into the Whomping Willow and been shattered irreparably. It was a mark of how much the boy had been through that he took the loss in stride, though it clearly wounded him, and Eli found herself impressed overall. As the group talked, she watched Madame Pomfrey dashing to and fro, doling out potions to students who had been harmed or otherwise panicked, shooing visitors away when beds got too crowded… And she thought of herself in that position, whether with students or adults, being in charge of others’ wellbeing. Eli could see it, though she had to wonder if a Slytherin would be allowed to become a Healer. Or did the prejudice run too deep?

“Hey, Eli… Everything all right?” George asked her quietly. “We’re leaving now, Madame Pomfrey wants to let everyone rest.”

Eli nodded at him, summoning up a smile. “I’m fine, just thinking.” She followed the group out, getting just to the door when a thought struck her. A glance back told her Madame Pomfrey was occupied with Katie Bell, so she was able to dart back to Harry’s beside.

He stared up at her in confusion. “Oh, uh, hey, Eli…”

She didn’t waste any time. “Look, I just wanted you to know… You’re not the only one these Dementors knock on their arse. The twins and Simon kept it quiet for me, but I passed out on the train too when they got too near the glass. I just…” Eli sighed deeply, feeling frustrated she couldn’t get the words out right. “You’re not alone, y’know? They’re bloody awful and I have no idea why anyone thinks differently, even if it doesn’t affect them like that.” She swallowed and added, “It could’ve been me. If Slytherin had played like we were supposed to… Well… Just…remember you’re not alone, okay?”

Nodding slowly, he gave her a faint smile. “Thanks.”

Madame Pomfrey noticed her then and ushered Eli out disapprovingly, but she couldn’t even feel bad, since Harry gave her a much more genuine smile and a wave on her way out, and she felt accomplished. She’d done what she needed to.

“That was nice of you.”

Eli turned and wrinkled her nose at the twins. “Well, nobody else understands how dreadful they feel.”

“Our little Slytherin is getting soft,” Fred joked, earning a disparaging look.

“I am not!” she defended herself. “It’s just…a rough year, that’s all.” And it was, truly, though she hadn’t wanted to admit it much. More than any other year, this one was taking a toll on her mentally, dragging her down into an unpleasant state of mind.

Simon reached out and embraced her quickly, tightly, making her smile despite herself. “Cheer up, Eli. It’s the holidays soon.” He released her and grinned almost shyly at the twins. “I do have some news… Rosalyn’s going on some trip this holiday with her friends, and so mum’s going to meet her somewhere for it…but I begged off. I asked Mrs. Weasley and she told me I can stay at yours for Christmas, so…” He eyed the twins nervously. “Would that be all right?”

“Simes!” Fred laughed brightly and wrapped Simon in a ridiculously tight hug, dancing the shorter boy around the hallway. “It’s about ruddy time!”

George watched his brother’s antics with a wide grin. “We get him all Christmas, Freddie, let him breathe.”

Fred released Simon and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Never.”

Eli swore she saw Simon’s face go red, but he hid it well if it did happen, and moments later he’d redirected the conversation to whether or not he ought to buy everyone presents on their next Hogsmeade trip. She tucked the information away for later, but joined in anyway, discussing splitting off while they were there to find presents for each other since it’d be their first Christmas all together. Already she was trying to figure out what to get the boys for Christmas, as well as the rest of the Weasley family—she’d usually made sweets for them, but she’d finally begun saving enough money from her allowance over the summer and taking up a few odd jobs near home as well. It’d be nice to be able to gift everyone a little something. After all, the family had practically adopted her, and she wanted to repay that however she could.


	5. The Broomstick Charm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to the next installation! It has come to my attention that I neglected to explain how to pronounce Eli's nickname. Her real name is said normally, but her nickname 'Eli' actually has hard E and I sounds. 'Ee-lye.' Like the short form of Elijah. Just wanted to clear that up! <3

“You gave it to him?” Eli demanded, shocked.

The twins shrugged at her easily. “Well, poor kid was trying to sneak here under his invisibility cloak,” George pointed out.

Fred nodded encouragingly. “Your parents seem all right, Eli, they signed your form, but Harry lives with these bloody awful muggles who hardly let him do anything!”

“Don’t you remember last year? We broke him out since they put bars on his window.” George scowled at nothing in particular. “Mum was furious but it was totally worth it, and he said afterwards those muggles were too scared to try it again, said more wizards might come and blow the house up, so we fixed the problem.”

“We might’ve blown the wall up too, if we could use magic outside of school,” Fred added.

Eli linked arms with Simon and sighed at them. “But really, the Marauder’s Map? You just gave it up? You could’ve loaned it to him, y’know, and gotten it back later.”

Fred smirked at her. “Thought it was time to go old school again.”

“Besides,” George piped up, “we’ve memorized all the passages.”

She rolled her eyes, still unhappy. “I went to a lot of trouble helping you get that,” she reminded them. “Maybe you should’ve consulted me! I would’ve liked to use it again, it was damn useful and a fascinating bit of magic to boot.”

“Well, Harry’ll let you borrow it if you want,” Simon consoled her. “S’not like it’s gone.”

Eli wanted to tell him it was the _principle_ of the thing, but Simon just wouldn’t care, and he was right, anyway. She’d gotten Harry to sort of trust her, after she confided in him about the Dementors affecting her too, so she didn’t doubt he’d let her borrow it if she wanted to examine it again. Not that five years of examinations had yielded anything, but she kept hoping.

Once they were in the village, she split from the boys to do a bit of shopping, armed with a magically extended backpack to conceal any presents in. She’d already discussed taking a quick trip to Diagon Alley with Simon, using the floo network to simplify things, but it’d be good to see if she could find anything ahead of time, rather than relying on a small shopping trip just a few days before Christmas.

She wasn’t sure which Weasley children would be around—Bill and Charlie were always toss-ups, having graduated and moved on to their respective fields, sometimes they couldn’t make it. But everyone from Percy on down would be there, and even though the Head Boy was an absolute prat, she didn’t want to give him a reason to fuss. So she bought Percy a new quill and ink set, with a special ink you could enchant into different colors and even to be invisible unless you used a particular spell to reveal it. Of course, that set the bar at a particular level, so she knew she’d have to do really well on everyone’s or risk someone being put out. As she strolled, she began making a mental list of possibilities for the others, including a few hard-to-acquire items for the twins, and plenty of things she’d need to get to Diagon Alley for.

Eli was deep in thought when she was almost trampled by Malfoy and his veritable bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle. She angrily pushed the blond out of her way, making him jump and give a little yelp. “Chaplain!” he cried, looking behind himself fearfully.

She glanced in that direction, and raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Are you afraid of the Shrieking Shack?” she asked, snickering.

Malfoy glared at her, though he still looked terrified. “I am not! There was just…just…” He growled and shoved past her, racing off into the snowy town nearly hyperventilating. His cronies hurried after him, equally as scared, and Eli had to wonder what had spooked them. The Shrieking Shack was usually scary to first years when they heard the story, and sometimes third years were scared on their first trip to Hogsmeade, but this was their second and she’d never seen anyone _that_ scared.

Ron and Hermione came round the corner then, looking a little shifty, and Eli studied them for a moment before they noticed her. Sure enough, a third pair of footprints was following them. “Hi, guys,” she greeted casually.

“Oh, hey, Eli.” Ron sounded chipper, if slightly nervous.

Eli beamed at them. “Enjoying Hogsmeade? You’ve been by Honeyduke’s, right? They’ve got some really great holiday sweets this time of year.”

Hermione nodded, looking like she though Eli had bought the ruse. “Oh yes, we were by earlier, just haven’t managed to pick anything yet.” She was a better liar than Ron, for sure, but there was the faintest magnetizing of her eyes to her right side, as if she were checking for something—yet there was nothing to be seen.

“I’d do it quick if I were you, the twins were heading in that direction last I saw and you _know_ they’ll snatch up all the good stuff.” Then, almost giggling, she fixed her gaze on the conspicuously empty space above the footprints. “All right, Harry?”

Ron and Hermione both jumped, while Harry stuck his head out of the invisibility cloak and gave her a desperate look. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here, please?” he asked.

Eli waved a hand at him passively. “Of course not. What kind of person do you think I am?” She frowned then, unhappy with her choice of words. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I’m no snitch, though. Besides, I know all about the map.”

“You do?” Harry’s voice was incredulous.

She smirked at him. “Who do you think helped the twins nick it first year? I was even there when they managed to make the bloody thing work, finally.” The whole thing was so amusing to Eli, with the half-horrified half-relieved looks on the third years’ faces, and Harry’s head just floating in midair like that. “Say, you didn’t have anything to do with Draco Malfoy and his lot getting the piss scared out of them, did you?”

They all looked conspicuously innocent. “Not at all,” Hermione demurred.

Ron gave Eli a thoughtful look. “That’s right, you did help them with that sort of stuff back then, didn’t you? I always forget that.”

“Because I’m a Slytherin?” It wasn’t a nasty comment, but she didn’t say it entirely kindly, either.

He frowned, apparently affronted. “No. Because you never get in trouble.”

Eli laughed at that, surprised. Whatever she’d expected, that had definitely not been it. “You’re right, it hasn’t happened yet. Five years and still going strong.” Tipping her head, she added, “Sorry to get so defensive. Force of habit.”

“No worries,” he told her easily.

She glanced towards town, hearing the sounds of a few students nearby. “Best cover back up, Harry. I’ll catch you all later.” Eli left them there, heading back into Honeyduke’s to pick up a few of her favorite candies, before making a quick stop at the owl post office to send a couple very important letters. By then, it was time to meet the boys for lunch, so she went straight over.

Eli found the twins and Simon posted up at the largest table, along with Lee Jordan and a handful of other Gryffindors. The odd one out, again. But George waved her over excitedly, Simon drew up a chair for her, and nobody acted like she didn’t belong, so it was all right. They mostly discussed their plans for the holidays, how they’d get to Diagon Alley, and Eli was roped into promising to practice Quidditch with the twins—but all the while she was just planning, planning, planning. She _had_ to do this Christmas right.

\--

Eli beamed as she placed a set of packages underneath the Weasleys’ Christmas tree. Each one had been given a name label and was wrapped carefully, ready for the next morning—she’d waited until everyone had gone to sleep on Christmas Eve to bring them down, keeping it a surprise and also preventing the twins from rumbling or trying to open them early. It took her a moment to arrange them just right, but when she’d finished, she retreated to the couch and nibbled on a biscuit that had been left after dinner. She just wasn’t ready to sleep yet, though it was half past four already. The first half of the school year had already been too much to cope with, but now…

Just that day, she’d received a letter from Professor Lupin, urging her to come by his office after the holidays to keep working on her Patronus, as she’d asked for extra help. That stress was enough on its own, but adding to that…was the photograph Fred and George had shown her earlier.

True to their suggestion earlier in the year, Mrs. Weasley had a photograph on the mantel with Evangeline McKinnon in it, as well as her sister Marlene. She had brushed it off and laughed earlier, but now it haunted her, tormented her from its place. The woman in question was young, smiling brightly, happier than Eli thought she’d ever felt—and she was Eli’s spitting image. With her golden-blonde waves, vibrant green eyes, the angular cheekbones and pointed chin, even the freckle at the end of one eyebrow like an exclamation point… In that photo, she could be Eli’s elder sister. But the photo was from the seventies, and with the age difference, it would make her more like Eli’s mum.

But that was _impossible_ , it had to be! Eli’s parents were both muggles, they’d been her parents her whole life, she was from an entirely non-magical family. They’d even had to keep her powers a secret from the rest of the family because of it. The resemblance had to be purely coincidental, of course.

That didn’t ring true no matter how many times she said it. But Eli had no other clues as to why they looked so identical. If they weren’t related, well, what else was there but coincidence? Just a strange twist of fate to confuse her even more this year.

Keeping one arm wrapped around her middle, she crossed the room and took the photo down again. The people inside smiled and waved at her, and Evangeline McKinnon wiggled her fingers like she _knew_ something was going on. As Eli watched, the woman turned and spoke to the people beside her, gesturing outside the photograph like she knew what was happening. “Stop taunting me,” Eli hissed.

The stairs creaked, and Eli turned around, caught with the damned thing in her hands.

Simon gave her a knowing smile. “Still bothering you, is it?” he asked quietly, approaching her as silently as he could.

Eli sighed but nodded. No sense in hiding it. “Just look at her, Simon,” she whispered. “She looks _exactly_ like me! How the hell could someone I’m not related to look so much like me? I…” She broke off, swallowing against unwanted tears, before she admitted, “I wrote to Professor Lupin about it, told him I’d seen her photo. I asked if she had any muggle relatives he might know about.”

“You’re fishing,” Simon pointed out. He reached out and took the photo away from her, and she couldn’t be bothered to resist. “Look, Eli, why does this bother you so much?” he probed. “Why does it matter who she is? She didn’t raise you, your mum and dad did, so why should it mean anything?”

“Because what if she is my mum? None of you understand what this is like for me, you all know where you fit in.” Eli’s hands curled into fists at her sides.

Simon raised an eyebrow, confused. “It’d make it better, wouldn’t it? If your mum was actually a witch, the Slytherins wouldn’t care so much, it’d make you half-blood at the least. I’d think you’d be happy about it.”

She felt the same warm, pins-and-needles sensation that usually preceded the glowing she’d struggled with since childhood, which was always followed by fire. But she had to keep those emotions down, she couldn’t do something that might harm the Burrow. “If you actually think I care about my blood status getting better, you don’t know me at all.” Eli glowered at him. “I’m fine being muggleborn, actually I’m _more_ than fine… It’s become part of me, Simon, ever since first year it’s been something I can define myself with, something that’s shaped me and made me—y’know, _me_.”

“Um…Eli…”

But she ploughed on. “If some…some witch gave me up, if she put me in a position to go through what everyone did to me… I don’t know who I am anymore, not if that’s my life. I’m fine with being the muggleborn who overcame her house’s prejudice. But I’m not okay being some abandoned orphan girl with a secret magical past. That’s a bloody fairytale. It’s not my life.”

“Eli!” Simon’s voice was as loud as he dared, in the sleeping house. “You’re glowing.”

She stared down at her hands in shock, realizing he was right. She’d begun to glow, just faintly, but enough to stand out in the darkness. “Damn,” she whispered, shutting her eyes. She had to calm down, _now_ , or she’d set the whole place ablaze! Yet no matter what she tried, the glow wouldn’t fade—it grew brighter and brighter every moment, heat pooling in her fingertips.

Panicked, Eli rushed out of the house, with Simon yelling after her. She just ignored him, racing into the tall grass surrounding the Burrow and sprinting as fast as she could, seeking the pools of rainwater that had collected from the rubbish weather recently. Water would keep her from destroying everything, it’d keep her adoptive family safe. Suddenly, she burst free of the dry grass and tumbled into water—not a moment too soon, either. Fire erupted from her hands, snuffed out by the water immediately, which sent steam floating up into the night.

Eli bowed her head as the fire abated and allowed herself to cry, drawing her knees to her chest and hiding her face. How the hell was she supposed to cope with everything all at once? Change didn’t come easily to her, not even at the best of times, and especially not with so many things just building up like this. And now her parentage was in question?

Someone rustled the grass nearby, followed by hands gently tugging her to her feet and guiding her out of the water. “Are you okay?” George asked her softly.

She instinctively nodded, already letting her tears fade—lies came easier than the truth. But at a worried frown from him, she just gave in and shook her head. There was no lying about this. “No,” Eli admitted. “Not in the slightest.”

George nodded, but he didn’t press any further. She was thankful for that. “You’re all wet… Simon mentioned fire, but…”

Eli blushed, ashamed she’d lost control like that. “I put it out.”

He laughed quietly. “Right. Water.” Tucking her in against his side, he tried to lead her back to the house, but she resisted. “Eli, you’re soaked, you need to get warm, you’ll catch cold like this,” he pointed out, not quite scolding but definitely firm.

“I don’t want to be pestered about what happened,” Eli explained, unable to meet his eyes.

George smiled and squeezed his arm around her a bit tighter, in a sort of side-hug. “I won’t let them, I promise. You can go straight up to your room and I won’t let anybody in, how does that sound?”

“Perfect,” she admitted. So she allowed him to take her inside, eternally grateful for his quick way of cutting the others off—Fred and Simon were hovering around, fretting, but George just waved them away and guided Eli upstairs before anybody else knew what had happened. Then, at his urging, she changed into dry pyjamas and simply stayed in her room. Instead of dealing with anybody that morning, George just brought her food up and left her with a brief, tight hug every time, not even letting Simon or Fred inside. Eli didn’t have the words to thank him, so she did what she could—she folded him an origami owl and left it outside the door for him to find. She’d written _unfold me_ on the side, as inside she’d written just a few short, simple words.

_This means everything to me._

Once breakfast was over, Eli summoned up her strength—after all, it was Christmas Day—and dressed in a bright green jumper and red tights, before heading downstairs to join the festivities. Mrs. Weasley was delighted to see she’d gotten over her ‘headache,’ and eagerly presented her with a wrapped package. George scooted over to make room for Eli between himself and the arm of the couch, and she gratefully took the spot.

“I’ve put presents under the tree for you all,” she announced happily, much to everyone’s delight.

The twins dove for theirs eagerly, while Percy demurely lifted his and stepped away to open it off to one side. Ginny was kneeling at the base of the tree, so she passed Ron’s to him and opened her own right there, quicker than anyone.

“Oh, Eli!” Ginny looked up at her excitedly—she’d unwrapped a miniature Nimbus 2001 racing broom, repainted from black and silver to red and gold, to match Gryffindor’s colors.

Eli was going to reply, but Percy had gotten his present open and came over to give her a rare hug, possibly because he felt bad she’d had a rubbish morning, but also possibly because he was sincerely grateful. It _was_ a good present, after all. The twins were next, holding up their presents with genuine confusion. “Er, Eli, what exactly is this?” Fred asked, holding up a long flat metal instrument, with a glass tube running through the center.

Equally as confused, George wiggled his own around—a round metal piece with a long metal spike sticking out one end, and a glass front with a little red needle inside. “Yeah, I’m…confused, honestly.” He held up a blank piece of parchment too. “And one single sheet of parchment?”

She giggled, nodding as Simon held up his own piece of parchment. “Yes, I promise, it’s not a joke. Fred, you’ve got a muggle candy thermometer, and George, yours is for chocolate.” Holding up a hand to stay their protests, she launched into the explanation she’d been planning. “Now, look, I know you two prefer everything to be done magically, but I did my research on magic candy-making—yes, I read your notes, don’t look at me like that!” Fred was giving her a shocked stare. “You shouldn’t sleep in the library with your experiment notes just lying around. _Anyway_ , every major wizarding candy-maker swears by muggle thermometers. They all say no magical products can even compete. The hard candies and chocolates you eat at Honeyduke’s? All made with the help of muggle thermometers. Besides, with these-” Eli lowered her voice with a glance at Mrs. Weasley. “-you can experiment anywhere, not just at school.”

Fred looked excited now, not stunned, and George was mirroring him. “Okay, I take it back. This is brilliant.”

“But…the parchment?” Simon reminded her.

Eli couldn’t stop grinning at that one. “I enchanted that before we left school, actually. I’ve got one too—it’s four-way paper, so we can communicate during classes or whenever, no matter where we are. And only we can read our notes, too, if you write a special symbol first. I’ll show you later.”

Simon looked a bit put out. “I only got the parchment, though.”

She nodded at him, unbothered. “I was afraid someone would snatch this up before it got to you.” Eli pulled an envelope out of her pocket and passed it to him, vindicated as the twins tried to grab it and Simon had to fend them off.

Ron was exceptionally pleased, as she’d gotten him a jersey for his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, which changed player’s names and numbers every day, and could play their fight song if you said the team’s name. Another bit of enchantment she’d worked herself, partially as practice and partially out of a desire to give really excellent gifts.

Leaving the group for the time being, Eli pulled a couple presents out from under the tree and headed across the room to where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting at the kitchen table, just watching. “I got you both presents as well,” she told them shyly.

“Oh, Eli, sweetheart, that’s lovely of you!” Mrs. Weasley gasped, rushing up to hug her tightly. “Thank you so much, dear.”

Mr. Weasley beamed and embraced her too, thanking her before quickly digging into his present—well, his children had to get it from somewhere, she supposed. He was delighted to find a book inside his box. “A book on muggle artifacts?”

“From the muggle world,” Eli explained, happily. “I thought it’d be useful to get the view from the other side, see.”

“This is perfect, thank you,” Mr. Weasley told her kindly.

Eli waited a bit anxiously as Mrs. Weasley opened hers—this had been the present she was most nervous about, seeing as the woman had done so much for her over the years, taken her in, fed her, made her feel loved and accepted when she could’ve easily turned her away… So Eli had fretted and stressed until she found something to express what she wanted. Or, well, until she’d created something. “I’m afraid they aren’t enchanted yet,” she began apologetically, as Mrs. Weasley finished unwrapping the gift. “I wasn’t sure how you did the enchantment and I didn’t want to muck it up.”

She had created an update for Mrs. Weasley’s family clock—it told her where each member of the family was at all times, somehow, a bit of magic Eli hadn’t figured out. She’d taken note of the designs from before, and gotten all the boys to help—she’d even owled Bill and Charlie for new, magical photos of them to put on, and taken photos of Percy, the twins, Ron, and Ginny herself. Then she’d added a sort of muggle touch, with a bit of magic of her own devising. She’d made impressions of each child’s thumbprint, which acted as a sort of locator, outside the clock. One could simply remove the hand from the clock, press their thumb to the print, step into the floo network, and be instantly transported to the fireplace nearest that child. Eli explained as best she could, growing more and more worried by the second, because Mrs. Weasley was dreadfully silent the whole time.

Finally, when Eli finished, the woman stood up and fixed her with a watery smile. “You’re a wonderful young woman, Eliana,” she told her honestly. “Thank you _so_ much, dear. These are absolutely lovely.”

“It was nothing, really,” Eli murmured. “I’m just glad you like them.”

She was on her way back to the tree when she paused, turned back, and caught Mr. Weasley’s attention since he was eagerly diving into his new book. Mrs. Weasley had gone to the clock, with Eli’s new hands in tow. “Is everything all right, Eli?” he asked, a little worried.

“Oh, yes, I just…need a little assistance with Ginny’s present,” she told him lightly. “It’s a surprise, please don’t spoil it.” Leaning in, she whispered what she needed, making his eyes go wide, but he nodded and kept it to himself, simply following her over to the others.

Ginny was sitting with her miniature broom, watching it fly circles around her head with a sort of dreamy look. She, of course, only had a hand-me-down broom from one of her older brothers, as the family never could afford new ones and could hardly afford used ones, either. Not that they let it bother them—Fred and George were the best Beaters in the whole school, and they were on old, outdated brooms. Still, Eli could understand it. She’d borrowed an old broom from the school until Lucius Malfoy caved and bought her a Nimbus 2001 to match the rest of the team.

Mr. Weasley cleared his through to get her attention. “Ginny, could I see that for a moment?” he asked, his acting surprisingly good.

The girl looked put out, but nodded and nudged it to fly over to her father. He caught it, gave it a moment’s examination, and then tossed it back to her—but halfway across its path, he raised his wand and wordlessly used the spell Eli had given him. Before everyone’s eyes, the repainted broom began to grow rapidly, so by the time it reached Ginny…

It was a full-sized Nimbus 2001.

“Bloody hell!” Ron yelped, ducking to avoid being hit in the head.

Ginny was gaping at it. “How’d you get a model to do that, Eli?” she asked, still not understanding.

But Simon did. He leapt to his feet and shook his head, stunned and amused. “She didn’t,” he told Ginny. “That’s a real broom.”

“ _What_?!” Ginny shrieked, in time with the twins.

Eli was uncomfortable with the attention, but she’d known the gift would draw plenty of it. So she just shrugged and gave the girl a bright smile. “Well, my mum and dads told me they wanted to buy me a new broom this year, they were so determined and I didn’t want to put them out. So I told them what I wanted, and they promised it’d be at Hogwarts when I got back. I actually got word from Professor Snape that it arrived, so don’t worry, I won’t be taking it back. Before we left school I just changed the colors on this one, and shrunk it down.”

Ginny was bouncing up and down on her toes the whole time. “You’re really giving this to me?” she breathed. “You’ve only used it this year, it’s practically new!”

“Well, I don’t need two nice brooms, do I?” Eli laughed, feeling so pleased with her decision.

Absolutely giddy and breathless, Ginny sprinted headlong into Eli to hug her, before running straight outside to try out her broom. It didn’t count as underage magic, after all, and nobody could blame her for being excited.

“You’re the best, Eli, you really are,” George told her as he followed Fred, Simon, and Ron out the back.

Percy touched her shoulder as he passed. “Thank you.”

Eli just sat there, unable to join in, having exhausted all her happy energy for the day. Thankfully Mrs. Weasley seemed to understand, shooing her husband out after the kids and gently reminding Eli that she hadn’t opened her present. A bit embarrassed, Eli hurried to open it, ashamed to admit she’d forgotten in all the chaos. She peeled back the reused paper to find not a sweater, like she usually got, but a beautifully-crafted Healer’s field bag, for uses outside a hospital. A start to Eli’s future. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and before she could thank her wizarding-world-mum, Mrs. Weasley gave her a tight hug and told her not to mention it.

Entirely too emotional to handle anything else, Eli took her bag and retreated to her little bedroom, overwhelmed. She fell asleep clutching the small green and gold bag, drifting off into dreams about Evangeline McKinnon, all punctuated by an awful, incessant screaming.


	6. The Many Misconceptions and Infinite Stubbornness of Eliana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double-update because I'm impatient. Oh, and because I'm jet-lagged two days before I hit Universal and Wizarding World, aka strung out on adrenaline and held together by snacks. Enjoy! <3

The night they got back to school, Eli went straight to Professor Lupin’s office, even knowing it was a bit too late to be practicing. She just wanted to confirm her extra Patronus training, and maybe ask him again about Evangeline McKinnon—he was her only source for information, thus far, and she hadn’t stopped thinking about that picture the whole holiday. Thankfully, though, she hadn’t suffered from any further pyrotechnics. Small mercies.

Eli stepped into the DADA classroom, silently closing the door behind her. It was dark, and some of the décor could be considered much scarier in the shadows, but she was a Slytherin and wasn’t much bothered by shadowy furniture. There were darker things in the world than that.

“Professor Lupin?” she called out. When nobody answered, she tried again, to no avail.

A chill ran through her. The Dementors were still around, but it wasn’t that—this time the wrongness was right here, in the classroom. For the first time, Eli brandished her wand ahead with the intention not to hex somebody as revenge, or to practice, but to defend herself. She paused, halfway through the room, before slipping to the side and creeping up the classroom wall instead. The center was too exposed.

A small flight of stone steps led up to the professor’s office.  Eli took them quickly, on the balls of her feet to stay quiet, and stood at the top with the bannister as cover. “ _Lumos_ ,” she whispered. The tip of her wand cast a soft white glow around the room, not quite reaching the distant corners, but it didn’t illuminate any movement, or anybody else nearby. Keeping her body facing the room, she knocked backwards on the office door, still ready to fight back should anyone come after her. It wasn’t so long ago that Sirius Black had entered the school—could he be lurking somewhere?

When Professor Lupin didn’t come to the door immediately, Eli squared her shoulders and murmured, “ _Lumos maxima_ ,” extending the light’s reach and casting the whole room in a bright, brilliant light.

“Miss Chaplain? What are you doing here so late?”

She whirled, wand still out, to see a very haggard Professor Lupin squinting at her through just a small opening. Chagrinned, Eli hurriedly whispered _nox_ , plunging the room into semidarkness again. Emboldened, though, since he didn’t seem angry, she flicked her wand and lit the two nearest candles where they sat in their sconces.

“Did…” He stared at her. “Did you do that non-verbally?”

Eli blushed. “I…usually don’t like to,” she admitted, feeling almost ashamed. “Fire spells come really easily to me, I got non-verbal on the smaller ones last year… But I’m not…comfortable showing that off, there’s plenty of stigmas against being really good at fire spells.”

The professor tilted his head slightly to one side. “Even so, it’s incredibly advanced for a fifth year, Miss Chaplain. No wonder you were able to master that avian messenger charm so easily.” Shaking his head, he opened the door a bit further and asked, “What on earth are you doing here so late, though? I know the term hasn’t officially started but curfew is in less than an hour.”

She nodded, taking it in stride. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been out after curfew. “I know, sir, I just…wanted to make sure we were still on for some extra work on my Patronus.”

“You couldn’t have owled that?” he told her, teasing just a bit. “Well, of course we are. Though, I have to ask… Have you been thinking of another memory? Your last one didn’t seem to work out, a couple times before you’d managed to get some mist going, which is a brilliant start. But then you changed it and if I recall correctly, nothing happened.”

Eli bit back the retort she wanted to snap out. He wasn’t being mean-spirited. “I’m…still working on that, honestly,” she admitted instead.

Professor Lupin looked surprised. “You’re having trouble finding a memory still?”

“Yes, sir.” God, it was shameful, wasn’t it?

“Miss Chaplain…” The professor opened the door fully and sighed. Eli immediately took in how ragged he looked, thin and weary and with deep, dark bruises under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept in a week. A goblet sat on the edge of his desk, and as they approached he quickly swept it off, tucking it in a cabinet across the room. But a faint whiff of its scent drifted to Eli, something familiar… Definitely a potion. As she watched, eagle-eyed to try and figure out what it was—an instinct developed from all her work on potions this year—she saw a faint blue smoke rising from the goblet.

She knew that potion. She’d _studied_ that potion, as Professor Snape had loaned her a vial to use in some extra work just before the holidays. The same week he’d subbed for Professor Lupin, and assigned connecting work on…on werewolves.

“Wolfsbane,” Eli breathed, taking a step back in shock. She’d interrupted a comment on why she might be struggling with a memory, apparently why he’d let her into his office in the first place, rendering the professor utterly speechless for a moment with his hand still on the cabinet door. “What did you say?” he asked softly, all pretense gone.

Eli gripped her wand tightly. The full moon had occurred last just before the break, _during_ the week he’d been out. “That’s the potion you’ve just hidden from me,” she told him, her voice gaining strength. “I recognize it.”

Professor Lupin’s lips curled up in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Of course. Professor Snape has mentioned you’re quite the Potions prodigy.”

She took another step away, holding her wand but not really sure what she’d do with it. “You—you’re a werewolf, aren’t you?” The damning words tumbled out before she could stop them, in a tone of unabashed horror that didn’t quite match her confusion. Mostly she was shocked that her head of house would go to such lengths to destroy someone else, for if word of his affliction got round to the parents, he’d be sent off in disgrace—and clearly, Professor Snape had been hoping someone would pick it up. She liked him well enough but she had no misconceptions about the type of person he was.

The professor was still looking at her, his face dreadfully sad. “I should’ve known you’d recognize it,” he sighed, even more exhausted than he’d looked at first.

“I think I’d better go,” Eli whispered. She didn’t know what else to do.

He nodded. “That might be best.”

Eli turned without a word and rushed out, tearing through the dark classroom and into the hall. But she didn’t head to her own dormitory. Instead she went straight for the passage to Hogsmeade, behind the statue of the one-eyed witch, where she ducked into the dark corridor and curled up against the wall. Her mind was just racing. Professor Lupin was a _werewolf_ , and Professor Snape had tried to ruin him. What the hell was that about? Why would a self-respecting adult want to destroy another adult like that? She prided herself on being able to read people, and Professor Lupin was definitely not a bad person—if he were, werewolf or not, he’d had plenty of opportunities to do something terrible by now. She’d spent plenty of late evenings in his classroom, working on spells and countercurses, most times when nobody else knew where she was. And even then, when she’d found out his secret, he could’ve stopped her from leaving. For all he knew, she was going to spread the story around the entire school by morning. But he’d let her go. He hadn’t even tried to stop her.

She suddenly felt an awful, drowning swell of guilt. Bloody hell. She’d gone running away in apparent fear, he must think she hated him now, or at the very least was terrified! And it just wasn’t true, god, Eli wasn’t _afraid_. She knew enough on the subject to be fully aware that werewolves were just normal people outside the full moon, and if he was taking Wolfsbane then he was managing the symptoms as best he could. He wasn’t a threat.

Eli emerged from the tunnel, fully ready to go back to the classroom, but instead she realized it was dreadfully late and she had a rather dangerous run back to her dormitory from there. So, hating herself for it, she headed off to the Slytherin dungeon instead.

The next morning, Eli begged off breakfast—though she secretly asked Simon to sneak something away from her—and instead went straight to the DADA classroom. But it was empty, even the office was deserted, though Professor Lupin’s belongings were still there so he hadn’t cleared off, at least. Maybe he trusted her not to tell.

Yes, she’d broken into the office. But she figured it was for a good cause.

Defeated for the moment, but not finished, Eli left and rejoined the boys after breakfast, heading en masse to their classes for the day. They shared Potions first, where Eli struggled between her house loyalty and her distaste for what Professor Snape had done—yet she still finished her assigned potion first, and managed to execute it better than anyone else—and then on to Arithmancy, a class none of the boys took, which at least let her find distraction in the complex maths of the day.

The rest of the day passed much too slowly, as Eli was just waiting for Defense Against the Dark Arts so she could, at the very least, demonstrate to Professor Lupin that she didn’t hate him. When she met back up with the boys, Simon and Fred were deep in a discussion (argument) about Transfiguration, a class they both excelled in, but George wasn’t paying attention to them. So of course, he noticed her sour mood.

“You look ready to jump out a window,” he told her brightly, falling into step beside her.

Eli didn’t bother denying it. “Well, I may have…reacted poorly to something last night.” When he went to ask, she held up a hand, “Please, George, don’t ask because I can’t tell you. Or anyone. I’m fine, I just…might have insulted Professor Lupin pretty badly and I’m just hoping he doesn’t hate me now.”

“I doubt he’ll hate you, he doesn’t seem the type.” He eyed her suspiciously. “You’re sure you can’t tell? Is it…I dunno…dangerous?”

She averted her gaze. “Not exactly. Look, don’t pester me, all right?”

George waved her off, before linking arms with her and grinning. “All right, deal. I won’t pester you about it if you help us prank Snape next week.”

Ugh. Boys. “Deal.”

Eli sat next to Simon, who was still arguing with Fred across the aisle, and tapped him on the shoulder. “Honestly, you two,” she sighed, “sometimes I wonder how you’re friends at all, when you get like this.”

Fred grinned widely. “Aw, Chaplain, I’m wounded.”

She was going to reply, but Simon prodded her side as Professor Lupin came down the stairs from his office. If she was right, he looked a bit surprised to see her there, but he took it in stride, simply continuing the lesson while pretending he couldn’t see her. For her part, Eli didn’t bother asking questions or making comments—she just went through it silently, except when they had to speak to practice incantations. At the end of the lesson, lunchtime, really, George was quick to pull Fred and Simon out of the room, letting Eli swear up and down she’d be fine, and soon enough she was alone with the professor. He was studiously ignoring her, shuffling papers on his desk at the front of the room.

But he couldn’t ignore when she stepped right up to the desk. She waited until he’d finally looked her in the eyes before she spoke up. “I’m not afraid of you.”

As she’d thought, the declaration stunned him. Professor Lupin frowned at her, seeming confused, before he managed a weak smile. “You don’t need to go out of your way to be kind to me, Miss Chaplain,” he told her, almost patronizingly. “Believe me, you’re not the first to run from the room when you figured it out.”

“But I shouldn’t have,” she insisted, determined. No way was she letting him dismiss her. “Honestly, I’m not doing this just to be nice.” Maybe a touch of humor would help? “I’m a Slytherin, remember? Just because I keep company with Gryffindors doesn’t mean I’m going to feel obligated to be nice to someone.” Not as humorous as she’d hoped. Oh well. “Professor, I recognized that potion because I studied it, like I said, so I know what you taking it means.” She paused, giving him a moment to reply, but he was just waiting patiently for her to finish. So Eli barreled on. “It means you’re keeping it under control, as best you can, right? It means you aren’t dangerous.”

Professor Lupin’s expression turned dark. “I am _always_ dangerous, Miss Chaplain.”

She waved him off, though. “Like hell. I don’t actually believe Professor Dumbledore would let you teach if he thought you were a danger to us.” Eli gave him a critical look. “It isn’t the full moon for another couple weeks, though. Why were you taking it last night?”

He hesitated a long time before answering, likely because he was so shocked she was taking such a clinical stance on it. “I’ve found it helps to get a head start… Last time was…” The professor paused, swallowing. “Difficult.”

Eli nodded, taking that in stride. “That’s why you were absent, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She chewed on her lip for a moment, wondering if she ought to tell him the next bit—but really, if they were getting it all out in the open now, there was no reason to hide it. “Professor Snape set everyone homework on werewolves while you were gone. I’m not snitching, it just…seems like you ought to know. That’s part of why I figured it out.”

To her surprise, Professor Lupin laughed. “Oh, yes, Severus isn’t a big fan of mine. He does brew my potions, though, to be fair. So it isn’t all bad.”

“That’s how he had some extra to give me, then,” Eli realized. “I’ve been doing extra work for him too, when you were out he lent me a vial of Wolfsbane to study.” She scowled at the desk. “Damn. He was leading me right into it, wasn’t he?”

Professor Lupin smiled then, a genuine smile. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Miss Chaplain. I’ll have a word with him, now that someone’s figured it out, but I’m rather sure he just wanted to scare me a little, nothing more. We’ve got quite a bit of history, he and I, but I doubt he wants to cause a schoolwide panic.”

Eli sighed and leaned into the smaller desk behind her, a bit distraught. She didn’t like to think her head of house did anything so…awful, but part of her really was convinced Professor Snape had wanted Professor Lupin to suffer. “Maybe.” Though she wanted to keep talking about it—she had a million questions, besides—she decided to switch topics if only for his sake, since the professor looked so dreadfully tired. “On a different note… I was at the Weasleys’ during Christmas, and the twins showed me a photo of, um, that witch you told me about. Evangeline McKinnon?” She said it like the name hadn’t been circulating in her head since she’d looked at the photograph.

His head perked up. “Oh, did they? I wasn’t sure Molly still had the photo.”

“It’s on the mantel,” Eli told him quietly. “I just… I’ve been so…confused since then, you see. She really does look like me, doesn’t she? But that’s _impossible_ , my parents are muggles, and there’s not a drop of magical blood anywhere else in my family.”

Professor Lupin crossed to lean next to her, trying to offer a little comfort. “I can’t say I know the answer, Miss Chaplain. She passed during the first Wizarding War, when you-know-who was in power, and our record-keeping wasn’t the best at the time. Plenty of children were born and lost before they could ever be officially registered. I would urge you not to worry about it, really, you were raised by the people you call your parents and I don’t think you need to be concerned with anything else.”

The way he said it, though, Eli knew he didn’t believe she’d listen. “I don’t think I can just put it out of my mind, to be honest.”

He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry I put this on you, Miss Chaplain. Really, I thought you _were_ her child, and if I’d known otherwise I wouldn’t have brought it up. You didn’t need the uncertainty, especially not with everything else.”

Eli shrugged it off. “No, I’m not upset about it. You didn’t know.” She looked down and toyed with the sleeves of her robes, trying to distract herself. “Sir… When I came by last night, you asked me about why I can’t find a good enough memory for a Patronus. The truth is… I’m having trouble finding something that powerful. There isn’t a lot in my memories that’s so strong, and isn’t…very sad or painful.” She glared at her trembling hands, dragging a little steel back into herself. “Not that I’m unhappy, but it was rough growing up in a muggle family. I told you I’m good at fire spells, well… When I was little, I set things on fire accidentally all the time. Until I got older, my mum had me wearing these heavy flame-retardant gloves, because if I got upset I couldn’t control it. When I came to school here, I got better control, of course, but that still weighs on me. And even here at school, I’ve had plenty of messes to get through, even beyond being a muggleborn in Slytherin. I don’t…” Eli huffed a sigh, frustrated that tears were gathering in her eyes. She wasn’t a first year, she wasn’t going to cry about this. “I don’t know that I have any memories good enough to produce a Patronus.”

Professor Lupin touched her shoulder lightly, cautiously, and squeezed once. “Do you have a free period after lunch?” he asked.

She nodded, still fighting tears back.

“Well, go spend lunch with your friends, and come here during your free period. We’ll try something a little different, how about that?” The professor tapped the side of his nose and smiled at her kindly. “And I want you to focus very hard on your friends, on why you like them, and how you feel around them.”

Eli knew where he was going, but if she spoke just then, she might lose her battle and cry all over him. And she was _not_ going to do that. So she just nodded again, offering a smile in return.

“Off you go, then,” he urged. “I’ll see you afterwards.”

Eli left the classroom in better spirits, despite the tears still fading from her eyes, because, in some backwards way, she felt like she might’ve made a new friend. Tentatively. Or mentor, more accurately, but Eli knew either way, there was significantly more trust there now.

She met up with the boys at lunch, pleased she hadn’t missed it, and delved right into their conversation about the next Quidditch match, discussing tactics and who they thought would win, between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. It was nice to just cleanse her mind after everything that had just come to light, but she didn’t forget Professor Lupin’s suggestion—why did she like the boys? What was it that tied them all together? Simon she’d met on the train, but he stuck by her after the Sorting and she’d never quite thought about _why_. And now, it hardly seemed to matter.

No, it didn’t matter. The origins didn’t mean anything in the face of how close they all were now. The boys felt like home, moreso than her own house did, and she widely considered the Weasleys her extended family by this point. They understood her, they allowed her to be herself—even letting her wear Slytherin colors without making fun of her—and never once did they expect her to put on a face for them. When she went home, to her parents, they seemed to expect a certain amount of normalcy. The first few days she could talk about school, but slowly they’d encourage her to talk about other things, to worry about getting a job or how she’d spend her summer in the muggle world.

Eli hadn’t thought about it that way before, but her parents, for all that they accepted her, didn’t really accept _magic_ in their lives. She was their daughter and they loved her, but that didn’t extend to her abilities—she wondered, now, if they were just happy she was under control. It wasn’t a very nice thought.

She ate a bite of pudding and studied the boys closely. Family wasn’t about blood, she mused. It was about who you care for, who cares for you, and how deeply that runs. You couldn’t pick your relatives—but you could pick your family. And she had picked hers.

“Blimey, Eli,” Fred muttered. “You’ll burn a hole in my head if you keep staring at me like that.”

Eli dipped her fingers in some double cream and flicked it at him. “Sorry, you’re just so painfully ugly that I can’t stop staring.”

“Hey!” the twins shouted in unison, both offended.

Simon laughed and nodded. “Oh, she’s right, you know. I’ve never thought about it much before, but god, you’re both awful to look at.”

Fred ducked right under the table to get to Simon, who leapt up and ran from him, inciting quite a spectacle as Fred chased him throughout the room. It was only made better moments later when Professor McGonagall began shouting at them to stop, flitting back and forth at the head of the room to try and catch them.

“You seem to be feeling better,” George pointed out, chuckling.

Eli beamed at him. “I am, actually.”

Somewhat amazingly, it was true. Sure, all the stresses were still there, but it was a little easier to bear them now that she’d worked through a few things. Well, _worked through_ was an exaggeration—but she hadn’t ruined things with Professor Lupin, and she was building an excellent idea for extra Potions practice too. So things were most definitely looking up.

After lunch, once McGonagall had doled out detentions and given Simon a stern talking-to about how a Prefect ought to behave better, Eli saw the boys off to their Care of Magical Creatures lesson and headed back to the DADA classroom.

Professor Lupin was at his desk, grading homework, which he set aside as she entered. “So,” he began, rising to his feet, “are you ready to give this another shot?”

Eli nodded quickly, setting her things down and drawing her wand out. “I think so. You wanted me to think about my friends to try and find another memory, right? A better one than what I was using before?”

“Well, not exactly.” He smiled knowingly at her. “I was thinking we could try a slightly different idea today. Considering you look much happier than when you left, can I assume spending time with your friends made you feel better?” When she nodded, he continued, “Rather than a memory, I want you to try focusing on the _feeling_. Not any specific moment, but the overall feeling you get when you’re around them, around the Weasleys, whoever makes you happiest.”

“I think I can do that.” Eli stepped up to stand across from him, just like always.

Professor Lupin nodded at her firmly. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

Eli shut her eyes as he conjured his usual—an image of a Dementor, floating in the middle of the room, to put the right sort of fear in her without being in any actual danger. He’d suggested a Boggart at first, but the damn thing turned into a swirling black vortex every time instead of a Dementor. So he’d resorted to this bit of complicated magic.

She opened her eyes to see the figure hovering nearby, its eyeless face fixated on her. Chills ran across her skin as she studied it, trying to think about what the professor had said. The _feeling_ of being around her friends, her adoptive family… Not a moment but an emotion. She pointed her wand up at the creature, watching it drift closer, and tried to zero in on the feeling she’d just had. That overwhelming sense of belonging, of fitting in as herself, swelled up inside her chest and making it feel tight with the emotions. But she held onto it, let it grow as she ran through names in her head. That was what it came down to, after all—the names of people who had made her feel _so_ welcomed and _so_ loved, right from the start. _Simon, Fred, George, Mrs. Weasley…_ The tips of her fingers began to glow. _Mr. Weasley, Ginny, Ron, Charlie, Percy, Bill… Simon, Fred, George…_

Eli gasped as the creature drew closer, nearly startling her into losing concentration, but instead she flicked her wand and cried out, “ _Expecto patronum_!”

White mist burst forth from her wand, rushing towards the pseudo-Dementor, making it shriek and fly backwards. The mist followed it, attacking until Professor Lupin let the enchantment go—the mist then lingered for a moment, as Eli held the spell, before a wave of dizziness came over her and she lowered her wand, dropping to her knees and panting hard.

“Excellent!” Professor Lupin laughed, helping her into a chair and beaming at her. “Excellent work, Eli, absolutely brilliant.”

She noted he’d called her Eli, instead of the formal _Miss Chaplain_ , but she was just glad he didn’t call her Eliana. Only Mrs. Weasley could get away with that. “It was hardly corporeal,” she argued back, crossing her arms. “Not even a proper shield form.”

“But until now you couldn’t do anything at all,” he pointed out. “That was _much_ better. A bit more work and you’ll have a full shield form. What you just did would certainly send a handful of Dementors running for the hills, though.”

Eli couldn’t hide a smile. “You think so?”

“Absolutely.” Professor Lupin offered her a piece of chocolate, and she ate it, conscious of the muggle science behind it—chocolate released endorphins to combat the overwhelming sadness Dementors brought. It was a smart idea, really. She was just surprised it was from a muggle source. “Now, as I’m sure you know, your OWLs will ask you to perform a Patronus for extra credit. You’ll hardly need the points, but if you do want to attempt it, they won’t be looking for a corporeal one from a fifth year. Only the shield form, and you’ll get a few points for the mist as well. Most of your classmates won’t be able to do much at all, I shouldn’t think. This is very advanced.”

She nodded, considering that. He was probably right that she wouldn’t need the extra credit, but she _really_ wanted to give it a shot. “Well, I’d rather have the best chance possible, really… So is it all right if we keep working on this?”

“Of course,” he told her, smiling. “I’m happy to do it.”

Eli grinned and nodded, completely satisfied. Now for Professor Snape.

\--

The end of the year approached rapidly. Eli was caught up in her studies, but she still found time to be around the boys—it was about the only thing keeping her sane, actually. She’d gotten express permission to spend a few late nights with Professor Snape, working on Potions, because he’d agreed to her request after a little prodding-

To learn how to brew the Wolfsbane potion.

He had known instantly that she’d figured out about Professor Lupin, but instead of being cross, he seemed almost pleased. Professor Snape explained to her that he was tasked with providing his colleague’s potions each month, as a condition of Professor Lupin’s employment—so he simply made her his assistant for the monthly sessions, giving her special permission to be out past curfew and allowing her to learn the potion inside and out. It was awfully difficult, not to mention expensive, so he mostly had her preparing ingredients and fetching from his stores, but she didn’t mind the menial tasks because it led to him teaching her directly how to do it, finally letting her actually add ingredients and even walk him through it once. That was her crowning achievement—he followed her directions exactly, and the potion turned out beautifully.

Finally, it was time for exams, and the castle seemed ready to snap with tension. Eli begged a sleeping draught off Madame Pomfrey the night before, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. She even consented to sleep in her own bed instead of the common room, wanting to be as rested as possible for the first OWL—Charms.

Bright and early, Eli headed down to the Great Hall, meeting the boys and settling down between George and Lee, though she didn’t feel like she could eat.

“So it’s Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts this week, right?” Simon was ticking it off on his fingers, as most of the group had the same classes overall. “And next week is Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, Arithmancy, and History of Magic.”

“I don’t even know that I’ll sit for History of Magic,” Eli sighed. “I’ll be so dead after Arithmancy.”

Fred raised an eyebrow. “You’ll just skip it?”

Eli shook her head insistently. “No, I’ll talk to Professor Snape about it. There’s no reason, I only took the class half the year because I dropped Divination and wouldn’t switch to Ancient Runes partway.” Halfway through the year, Eli had reached a breaking point with Divination, knowing it would _never_ be useful in her future, so she’d asked to switch. Her only options had been History of Magic—snore—and Ancient Runes, which was interesting but _much_ too far in the year for her to catch up. So she’d been stuck with half a year of History of Magic, but really, it wouldn’t be useful to sit for it. She’d rather use that day to help Professor Snape with Professor Lupin’s Wolfsbane potion again.

They passed breakfast hardly eating, mostly nibbling on toast points with the barest spoonfuls of jam, and then cleared out with the other students so the Great Hall could be rearranged for their OWLs. Then the examiner from the Ministry let them in, and it was time.

The first day was hard, if only because they’d never taken an exam like this—it was a trial run day, of sorts. Of course, it was Charms, so there wasn’t room for Eli to mess up. She needed that for her career path as a Healer. It seemed to go just fine, though, and she impressed the examiner when she demonstrated her proficiency with Growth and Shrinking Charms, including the ability to control just how small or large an object got, so she was happy with that.

Second day was Transfiguration, something unrelated to Eli’s career, but she knew how important it was in the wizarding world so she gave it her all. George, however, came out torn between distress and laughter, because he was absolutely certain he’d failed the exam entirely. The very next day, Fred had the same reaction about Herbology, especially having seen Eli’s practical, which she thought went particularly well.

The evening after the Herbology exam, Eli went to Professor Lupin and practiced on her Patronus again, much to his amusement. “You won’t get much better in just a couple hours, you know,” he pointed out with a wry smile.

“I know,” Eli grumbled. “But I’ve got to try.”

The next morning brought the DADA exam—first written, then practical. Eli was stunned almost into laughter when she read the first question. It wanted her to list five signs to identify a werewolf. _He’s my teacher?_ she thought, hiding a smirk. The other questions weren’t so amusing, but she was relieved to discover she knew all the pertinent information.

The practical was more intimidating, but Eli refused to let it get to her. It definitely pushed her, hard, but when she was finished performing her last spell, _Riddikulus_ , Eli could’ve collapsed onto the floor in relief. But it was time for the extra credit.

“Now, Miss…Chaplain, yes.” The Ministry examiner directed his quill to make a note as he eyed her. “Will you be trying for the extra credit?”

Eli nodded quickly, though her heart was racing in her chest.

“Very well. Please produce your very best Patronus Charm. You will not be docked points for failure.” His voice was even, but despite how well she’d done, Eli knew he didn’t believe in her.

And that, more than anything, sparked something inside her. Her friends believed in her. Simon had hugged her so tight beforehand and sworn she’d do amazingly, while the twins had taken turns blurting out spells she far outstripped them with, to boost her confidence. Eli thought about the three, more like siblings than friends, and felt a soft smile curling her lips. Dementor or no Dementor, she could do this.

Eli focused in on her newfound family, on the people who supported her—and a memory flitted into her mind, just a single, simple moment. Simon, brow furrowed as he buried his nose in a book; Fred sleeping nearby, the corner of a textbook digging into his cheek; and George beside her, working through a sheet of parchment with his leg resting absently along hers.

“ _Expecto patronum_!”

The words tumbled out before she’d even consciously thought to cast the spell, but she went with it, keeping her shoulders squared like Professor Lupin had told her, promising it would help. For a moment, nothing happened, not even mist, and Eli was shocked since she’d gotten a shield up for a few seconds the night before.

But then a shimmering, ghostly jaguar burst forth from her wand, startling the examiner into dropping his parchment as it bounded past him, racing down the aisle of students. Everyone stopped for a moment, staring at the beautiful creature as it made a loop throughout the room, before it finally came to sit beside Eli, protective and fierce. She held her breath in the silence, until one of the twins let out a delighted yell and congratulated her, only to be shushed by another examiner. Laughter rippled through the room, and Eli settled enough to let her jaguar fade.

“Excellent work, Miss Chaplain,” her examiner told her, both surprised and impressed.

After the exam, once Simon and the twins had congratulated her, she raced off to find Professor Lupin before dinner. Bursting into his classroom, she found him just heading into his office. “Miss Chaplain? Is everything all right?” he asked, worried.

Eli beamed at him. “A jaguar!” she announced. “It’s a jaguar!”

Professor Lupin’s eyes shot wide, even as he grinned right back at her. “You conjured a corporeal one? For your exam?”

“I did!” Eli giggled and pressed her hands to her mouth, struggling to hide her excitement. “I couldn’t believe it, but I actually did it!” She suppressed her unexpected bubbliness and gave him the most genuine smile she could. “Thank you, Professor. I couldn’t have done it without you, I really couldn’t.”

He inclined his head at her. “It’s been wonderful helping you this year. And I look forward to seeing you in my class next year.”

Eli smirked. “If I get my OWL like I want.”

Professor Lupin shook his head at her, almost in exasperation. “You just performed a corporeal Patronus, Miss Chaplain. You’ll be just fine.”

She nodded, trying to quell her emotions. He was most likely right, but it was just so hard, after all the stress, to feel anything but anxiety. “Thank you, sir, really,” she reiterated. “For everything.” Eli didn’t know what else to say, for everything he had done for her over the year.

“You’re very welcome, Eli,” he told her kindly.


	7. Eli’s Monumental Task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote a good portion of this story without separating out chapters - and then later I went back and broke it apart properly. I just prefer writing naturally without worrying about full chapter breaks, just scene breaks, which is why my chapters range from the 4k range to I believe the 8k range later on. This is on the shorter end, but not lacking in plot advancement. I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this so far.

By the end of exams, Eli was about ready to blow something up. She was tired, had lost almost half a stone, and though she had managed to avoid the History of Magic exam, Professor Snape had already finished the batch of Wolfsbane since the full moon was on that very same Thursday. So she sat in the common room and practiced potions on her own, most especially a healing potion she was trying to devise—it kept coming out wrong, but she wanted it to be a sort of second skin, like a muggle band-aid except it could temporarily bond with the skin and cover a wound, allowing the injured skin underneath to heal, and then would fall off when the wound was healed entirely. It just kept refusing to bond with the small scratch she’d given herself, unfortunately.

Eli hadn’t noticed the time, but judging by the moon no longer shining through the lake, it was past five in the morning. She began cleaning up her mess, just slowly, not really looking forward to going home for a couple months. She’d miss Simon and the twins desperately, not to mention she had to wait and find out about her OWL results the whole damn summer.

The door to the common room slid open and Eli rushed to hide her work, but it was too late—she was caught when…

Wait…

It wasn’t Professor Snape sweeping in for a late-night check. It was Professor Dumbledore.

Eli guiltily stepped in front of her potions equipment. “I—I’m sorry, sir, I was just…”

But he held up a finger, silencing her. “Please come with me, Miss Chaplain. It is a matter of utmost importance.”

Fear buried the guilt instantly. Eli abandoned her things and rushed after him, not even worried that she was in her pyjamas, since she had a robe on for privacy. Whatever was going on to warrant such a late visit, it had to be either very important, or very bad. Something was telling her it was the latter. “Professor, what’s happening?” she asked quietly, as they turned down a corridor and headed towards the hospital wing.

Dumbledore’s face was grave. “I am afraid there was an…incident concerning Professor Lupin this evening.”

Eli’s heart dropped right to the floor. “Is he…is he all right?” she breathed.

He hesitated, looking unsure if he wanted to tell her the truth, but then he relented and shook his head. Eli abandoned him and ran all the way to the hospital wing, nearly slipping in her socks as she skidded around the corner and inside. Several beds were occupied, apparently, but all had the curtains drawn except one on the right, which held the twins’ little brother Ron.

Madame Pomfrey approached Eli, fretting and wringing her hands. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she murmured. “Remus suggested—before I made him sleep for his own good—that you’re quite proficient in Potions, yes?”

“I…am,” Eli told her cautiously. What was this about? “But wouldn’t Professor Snape be a better choice for something sensitive?”

“Perhaps, yes, but Professor Snape is…indisposed at the moment,” Dumbledore told her calmly. “And unfortunately, Remus is in need of some Wolfsbane potion to abate his symptoms. He…apparently missed a day, sometime this week. Tonight was difficult for many people. But right now, we need your assistance, Miss Chaplain. As it stands…you have the most experience with the potion currently.”

Eli was trembling. They wanted her to _what_?! To brew the goddamned Wolfsbane potion on her own, when she’d only ever assisted? “You mean to tell me nobody else can do it?” she asked, incredulous. “Not in the whole school?”

“No one else has been assisting Professor Snape in brewing it for half the school year,” Dumbledore pointed out calmly.

She closed her eyes tightly. Bloody fucking hell, this was absolutely insane, wasn’t it? They were asking a fifteen, almost sixteen-year-old to brew a Wolfsbane potion. But then she thought about it for a moment, really considered it. If they were coming to her, they must really be desperate…and Professor Lupin must be in awful, awful shape.

“Can I see him?” she asked quietly.

Madame Pomfrey looked disapproving, but at a motion from the Headmaster, she gestured to the bed on the far left. “He’s asleep right now, or he ought to be,” she told Eli firmly.

But Eli wasn’t listening. She’d already started across the room, nearly breaking into another sprint just in her haste to get there—but when she reached the bed, conscious of how badly he must be doing, she steeled herself and gently pulled the far side of the curtains aside. What she saw dug at her heart in a way nothing else had, not ever in her life, though she didn’t think she’d seen many people in hospital before.

“Eli,” Professor Lupin murmured, trying to sit up. But he was too weak and gave up in seconds, instead attempting to give her a weak smile. “I’m sure I look worse than I feel.” She knew that wasn’t true, though—he was battered, bruised all over, covered in lacerations and what looked like claw marks. His eyes were bloodshot and weary, and deep bruises cut purple swaths under his eyes. But the expression on his face told her that no, he absolutely did _not_ look worse than he felt. She didn’t think she’d ever seen someone look so deeply weary.

“I doubt that,” she murmured. “I…Professor Lupin… Do you really think Wolfsbane potion will help? The full moon is over, isn’t it?”

He nodded, sighing wearily. “It is. But when it’s been…particularly bad, it can help expedite the healing process, and…” But the professor broke off, coughing deeply. “And fight some of the nastier aftereffects.”

“Remus, don’t coddle the girl,” Dumbledore scolded gently. To Eli, he added, “The potion mightn’t work at all next time otherwise. And without it, he could spend all month in bed anyway.”

Eli couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. This was a _huge_ task, enormous, and she wasn’t really sure she was up to it. But yet…she had to try, she couldn’t walk out of the hospital wing and leave him like this, possibly knocked off his feet for a month and doomed to a full transformation next full moon. Her conscience just wouldn’t let her. Besides, she’d been wondering how to properly thank him for everything he’d done—wouldn’t this be an excellent way?

“If…if I can use Professor Snape’s equipment,” Eli conceded, watching relief flood Professor Lupin’s face. “You can’t do it as well with a student’s kit.”

Professor Dumbledore nodded. “Naturally.”

Eli looked up at Professor Lupin, worrying her lip between her teeth. “And…Professor Lupin… You’ll need to double-check it at the end. I know you don’t brew it yourself, but you’re most familiar with the final product, certainly more than I am. The aconite… I don’t want to risk poisoning you.”

“I trust you,” he murmured, nodding.

She took one more look at the adults surrounding her, marveling at the trust they were putting in her—a Slytherin, and just a teenager too!—and crossed her arms firmly. “Then I’ll get to it.”

Eli stopped by Professor Snape’s private storeroom, gathering everything she needed before enchanting it to follow her and heading deep into the dungeon, to the Potions classroom. Professor Snape’s large cauldron sat at the front of the room, cleaned and ready, since he was terribly anal about these things, so she immediately started a fire underneath and began laying out her ingredients.

_First, count and measure everything,_ she reminded herself. _Then double-check it. The amounts must be absolutely precise. Triple check if you aren’t confident._ Eli followed her mental instructions, counting and then recounting, as well as measuring everything out and then checking it both by weight and volume. So far, it wasn’t bad, but it could all go wrong during the process. This was the easy part, but also the place most potionmakers went wrong. If she had all her ingredients right, then she stood a chance of actually doing this.

It was ludicrous to expect a fifth-year to manage an acceptable Wolfsbane potion, and Eli knew that, but she didn’t let it deter her. She wasn’t going to let something like age stop her. So, sucking in a deep breath, she dove in headfirst.

Eli worked for an hour without pause, until her hair began sweat-sticking to her neck and face, and she had to magically pin it up or risk it getting in the potion. She wiped her forehead and hit herself with a blast of cool air—even though the dungeons were cold to begin with, stress was wreaking havoc with her system. Still, she didn’t give up.

Halfway through, Eli realized daylight was coming in brightly, but she just used _colloportus_ to lock the door and pressed onward. The potion was coming along nicely, after a near-ruination where she’d almost spilled too much powdered silver in all at once, which thankfully she caught before her hand tipped too far. Seeing as she was getting very strung out and tired, Eli took the moment to recheck her process, ensuring she’d added all the ingredients properly and hadn’t left anything out. Then she went back to her task, stirring the potion six more times clockwise and then thrice anticlockwise, before adding three drops of essence of dittany, and stirring it just once, more folding the oil in. The potion hissed and steamed at the addition, and Eli nodded, pleased.

She kept at it for another hour, handling the aconite with extreme care and even digging out her notes from assisting Professor Snape to make sure she treated it correctly. She was to add it near the very end, so the heat from the fire didn’t completely burn out its effect, but had to let it simmer for exactly two and a half minutes to ensure it would be potent but not dangerous. And in that time, she needed to add raw, moonlight-treated valerian root for extra calming properties.

Eli started the timer right as she dropped the crushed flower petals in, watching the potion change colors—it settled on a cool blue tone, which was absolutely correct. So she moved on to the valerian root, which she’d finely chopped earlier, dropping that in slowly and stirring it exactly thirteen times anticlockwise.

Two and a half minutes went by like lightning, and Eli snuffed out the fire immediately. This was the hardest part, she knew—the very last ingredient was freshly-powdered moonstone, which had to be added in the next thirty-two seconds. It lost all potency within sixty seconds of being crushed, so some potionmakers crushed it up before removing the heat, but Professor Snape absolutely swore the effects were best if you crushed it _after_. Meaning from the moment the fire died, Eli had thirty-two seconds exactly to crush the moonstone, add it, and stir it twice clockwise.

Her hands started to tremble as she crushed up the shimmery white stone, but Eli held her breath and worked quickly and confidently, adding the fine white powder just as the clock hit twenty-six seconds. She continued holding her breath through the required two firm stirs, and then sucked in a greedy lungful of air when she was through.

She’d done it.

Eli watched, hopeful, knowing the absolute sign she’d done it correctly would come in the form of the faint blue smoke she’d recognized in Professor Lupin’s office, what felt like ages ago. It took only a few seconds, but god, it felt like eternity to wait, scarcely breathing, to see if she actually was as capable as the others believed her to be.

Finally, soft blue tendrils floated up from the surface, and Eli sank to the floor, absolutely wrecked. But she still had to deliver it, get Professor Lupin’s approval, and providing she got that, she’d simply _have_ to see if it actually worked.

So, resigned to not sleeping for another hour at least, Eli cleaned up, safely preserving the potion she’d made up in a container, and then removing a gobletful of it to bring upstairs with her. There was no other option than to walk up, through the castle, which was now bustling with students getting ready to go home, relieved after their exams, wandering around in street clothes chattering excitedly about their summer. Eli stopped plenty of conversations just with her presence—a wrung-out Slytherin girl in her pyjamas, hair a mess, lack of sleep marked under her eyes drew plenty of attention, not to mention that she was carrying what was obviously a potion with such care you’d think she was holding a kitten.

But she didn’t care. She absolutely did not care, because she had _far_ more important things to care about.

Eli stepped into the hospital wing and noticed Harry and Hermione sitting at Ron’s bedside, chatting with him amiably. They all looked at her in surprise as she walked in, and Eli nodded once, hoping Madame Pomfrey would come out before they could ask.

“Eli? Are you all right?” Hermione asked her softly.

Well, the straight answer was _no_ , but Eli wasn’t feeling up for a discussion. So instead she just shrugged. “I’m fine. How’s your leg doing, Ron?” A blatant attempt to swing the spotlight elsewhere.

Ron’s ears tipped red at the attention. “Oh, er, it’s fine, nothing too bad. Madame Pomfrey says I’ll be fine to head home this afternoon.”

Mercifully, Madame Pomfrey strode out of her office then, hurrying to take the goblet from Eli and examining it. “Well, it looks right,” she admitted, giving it a little sniff. “Smells correct too.” Though she looked a bit suspicious and wary still, she beckoned for Eli to follow her across the room—then she waved her wand and pulled the curtains around the other three, much to their irritation, though they didn’t try to look round.

Eli accepted the goblet back and stepped behind the curtains to Professor Lupin’s bed, noting he was awake and staring distantly at nothing in particular, his eyes dazed and unfocused. “Professor Lupin?” she asked, her voice as quiet as she could make it.

He jolted like she’d hit him, and rolled over to see her. “Eli… Were you…up all night working on that?”

She waved his concern off. “Not my first time staying up all night, don’t worry.” Holding the goblet out, she added, “I did it… I think. Well, it looks right to me, I was very careful, but I’ll let you be the final judge of that.”

He seemed too weak to hold it himself, so Eli obligingly held the goblet out to let him look and smell it, just like Madame Pomfrey, but with a much more practiced and keen eye for the potion itself. Eli could hardly breathe as he examined it, tilting his head to one side, wafting it, gently tipping the goblet to see the consistency… But then he finally nodded, giving her the biggest smile she thought he could muster at the moment. “It looks perfect,” he murmured. “Just like Severus’s comes out.”

That was high praise, and Eli couldn’t keep the redness off her cheeks no matter how hard she tried. “I just hope it helps,” she told him.

“I’m sure it will.” Professor Lupin sounded far more confident than she felt.

Madame Pomfrey ushered Eli out with Hermione and Harry, the latter of whom turned to her the moment they exited the hospital wing. “You know about him, don’t you?” he asked her, no pretenses.

Eli didn’t bat an eyelash. “Yes. I figured it out just after the holidays.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” he demanded.

Something was wrong, Eli just didn’t know what it was. “Of course not. Bloody hell, I just stayed up all night making Wolfsbane potion to help him since Professor Snape couldn’t. Why? I didn’t think hardly anyone else knew.”

“I knew a while ago too,” Hermione admitted. “And…you haven’t heard what happened?”

Nausea lodged in Eli’s stomach that had nothing to do with staying up all night. “What happened? I’ve been in the dungeons all night, I locked the door and didn’t see anyone since Professor Dumbledore set me on this around five in the morning. Before that I was in the dormitories, since just after dinner.”

Harry’s voice came out bitter. “Apparently Snape let it slip to all the Slytherins that Lupin’s a werewolf,” he spat.

The corridor spun, and Eli had to fight not to stagger from the sudden revelation. “He did _what_? Dumbledore told me he was indisposed, not…not that, why would he…” But she knew why. _‘Severus isn’t a big fan of mine… We’ve got quite a bit of history…’_ That’s what Professor Lupin had said. “Bloody hell. That’ll ruin him, he won’t be able to teach anymore!”

“And I’m guessing Snape didn’t want to do anything for Lupin after—well… A few things happened last night.” Hermione was a rotten liar, really. “It seems unfair to put that all on you, though.”

Eli wrinkled her nose. “I’ve been helping Professor Snape make it for months, actually, ever since I found out. So they figured I was the most qualified at the time, as nobody else had assisted on it recently. A few teachers are decent with potions but I had pages of notes and plenty of experience.” She noticed her fingers were glowing, but she couldn’t be fussed to worry about it. Not until they started to heat up. “That’s an awful thing for him to do, especially to refuse to help…” Shaking her head fiercely, Eli drew her shoulders up and eyed the two third years. “Look, just don’t tell anyone I was involved, okay? It’s none of their business. I was just helping someone who’s been very kind to me this year. Nothing more.”

“We won’t say a word,” Harry told her, nodding. He seemed to believe she had nothing to do with it, at least.

“Oh, and…” Eli smirked. “If I hear any Slytherins saying _anything_ about—well, you know—I’ll hex them into next term.” She left the two with that, and headed off to the dormitories to catch up on lost sleep. It was all she could think about anymore, all she could handle after the night she’d had and the information she’d just been given. That afternoon she’d catch the train to Kings Cross, but for the time being, she just wanted to forget real life for a little.

\--

Eli was silent on the train home, which didn’t escape Simon and the twins’ notice. But no matter what they did, she couldn’t summon up more than a weak smile—no words, barely any reactions, just…nothing.

“Please talk to us,” Simon begged her, sounding both desperate and exhausted.

Fred leaned in across the seats. “C’mon, Eli, what’s going on?”

“Are you upset about Professor Lupin being…y’know…” George tried, hesitantly. “I know you got close with him, it’s a bit of a shock…”

That, beyond anything, set her off. “Don’t you dare talk about that!” she hissed, leaping to her feet. “I knew before almost _anyone_ else did, I’ve been helping and keeping the secret for months! You don’t know anything about what happened!” Eli knew her hands were glowing, but she was powerless to do anything about it. “I’m not upset he’s a werewolf, I’m upset the whole damned school knows! And _my_ head of house is responsible for that!”

She stormed out of the compartment, fuming, struggling to keep her temper in check. There was no tracing exactly _why_ she’d gotten so angry, George hadn’t meant anything by it, but the very idea that she’d be so distraught over Professor Lupin’s affliction cut her deeply—perhaps in part because she’d given him the very same idea when she’d realized it.

And while she knew she’d overreacted, she had just been up the entire night making a Wolfsbane potion to help Professor Lupin, to save him from an awful transformation next month, and with the emotional investment she’d put into that night, into the work she’d done, Eli couldn’t entirely fault her outburst. Really, the biggest problem was the secrets she’d begun keeping, unable to confide in her best friends about what had happened. So they weren’t on the same page as her, they weren’t able to really understand what was going on.

Eli didn’t blame them for that, but she couldn’t help but be defensive anyway. It was just in her nature.

George found her at the very end of the train, in a compartment by herself. Eli had curled up in the seat and was staring out at the countryside, her knees drawn to her chest and her chin resting atop them. She didn’t acknowledge him when he entered, but she knew he saw her glancing up at him when he walked in. He didn’t speak, though, just sitting opposite her quietly.

“I’m sorry I snapped,” Eli murmured finally, though the apology wounded her pride.

He shook his head. “No, _I’m_ sorry. Ron filled me in on a bit, and I was trying to sort of…” George grinned, embarrassed. “I was trying to see how you felt about it all, honestly. But I had no idea you’d been helping out, I swear.”

Eli nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t tell anyone. I _couldn’t_. It wasn’t my place.”

“Well, I can’t blame you for that, it’s a huge bloody secret.” He smiled and reached across to touch her knee lightly, comfortingly, trying to keep things open between them. After all this time, the boys knew she had a habit of shutting everyone out, hiding her feelings, and so they’d learned to take steps to prevent that. “You don’t have to handle everything by yourself now, y’know. We all know about Lupin being a werewolf and all. So you can talk to us.”

She looked away. “That doesn’t come very easily to me.”

“I know that.” George came to sit next to her, nudging her with his shoulder. “Pestering comes easy to me, though.” Bumping her over and over, he repeated, “What’s in your head? What’s in your head?” until Eli broke and laughed, shoving him away and scrunching her nose up. Pleased he’d won, George tugged her close and ruffled her hair, completely ignoring her protests that he was ruining her braids—she undermined herself anyway, from laughing so hard.

Finally he released her, both breathless and still laughing a bit. Eli shoved her unruly hair from her face and smiled at him, really smiled. “All right,” she agreed, shaking her head. “I’ll open up a bit more.”

“Excellent!” George hopped back across to the opposite side, leaned back, and rested his feet on the cushion just beside her. “I’m all ears, then.”

Eli was unnerved. “Right now?” She’d thought he meant over the summer, or when she came by the Burrow before school started, not right then and there on the train to London. But there he was, looking so expectant and almost elated to hear what she’d been bottling up, and she didn’t really know how to disappoint him.

So she talked. It started as a slow trickle, but rapidly became a waterfall, words and emotions just pouring out of her, as she spilled her heart out to one of her best friends. For his part, George just sat and listened, nodding to show he was paying attention, but he didn’t ask questions or interrupt—he just let her get all of it out. And it really was _all_ of it, from her fears of not making it into the career she wanted back at the beginning of the year, to her discovery of Evangeline McKinnon and how that haunted her every day, her struggles placing a sort of father-figure in her life when her own father was still around, the realization that her own parents tried to smother her magical side when she was home, how the only way she cast a Patronus was to think of her friends, not family… And then the whole event of the Wolfsbane potion, the discovery that Professor Snape had ruined someone who had truly become a mentor and ally for her, who had shown her great respect and kindness when there was no reason for it.

By the end, Eli’s voice was hoarse, and they were approaching Kings Cross, nearly back in the ‘real world.’ But George didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead he embraced her tightly, sweetly, and Eli blushed absolutely crimson. “Thank you for telling me,” he murmured, quirking a crooked smile. “You’d better write this summer, okay? Don’t just put it off.”

Eli hid her smile in his shirt. “I will, I promise.”

And she meant it. She felt lighter, happier now that she’d released all that. “Do you think your mum would let me come a bit earlier?” Eli asked curiously, as he draped an arm across her shoulders to guide her back to their original compartment.

“Honestly, Eli? I think she’d let you spend the whole summer if you asked,” he laughed.

It was tempting, but she knew she had to spend some time with her parents. They’d get put out if she just retreated to the Burrow all summer. “I’d love to, but I do have to go home sometime.” Eli smirked and added, “But I would like to spend a couple weeks there, maybe. No one’s ever shown me around the area.”

George scoffed at that idea. “There’s nothing to see, it’s all fields, fields, more fields, water, fields…”

She giggled and prodded his side until he yelped. “I’d still like to look around, I’ve never been past the back yard. Besides, when my family lived in Sussex, I used to love wandering around in the fields. I ended up in someone else’s property once, they chased me off with a broom!” Seeing his face, she quickly tacked on, “A muggle broom, not an enchanted one.”

“Well, then we’ll go wander in the fields,” George agreed brightly.

Eli smiled up at him as they returned to their compartment, meeting Simon and Fred’s happy comments about her being in better spirits. Nothing was perfect, it wouldn’t ever be—and she was still stressed and overwrought by a myriad of problems—but she didn’t think she’d trade it for anything. She certainly wouldn’t trade the boys for anything. And after this year, everything would change anyway, what with their OWLs being over and classes being switched up. Not to mention the change-ups in her own world.

And yet, she mused, as they pulled into the station, she was kind of excited to see what happened next.


	8. Owl Post, or How Eli Ran Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is, oh, almost double the length of the last one. Oops? Like I said, I broke it apart later, so I had to put the chapter breaks here to make everything flow right and have the right breaks later on. Soooo, enjoy the extra-long chapter! As always, I'd love to hear your feedback!

Three weeks home and Eli already was feeling bored. She’d gone through her birthday by now, having rung in her sixteenth birthday with a day in Diagon Alley with the boys, plus Ron and Ginny, but it hadn’t been enough to keep her from missing them. They all wrote each other constantly, both via traditional owl post and Eli’s enchanted parchment.

Owl post still terrified her parents. They were extremely uncomfortable with all the birds coming and going, though Eli reassured them they’d all be very well-trained—except Errol, who always managed to miss the opening in her window and smash into the pane instead. Simon kept using various owls as he traveled across the continent with his aunt and sister, so new birds kept appearing all the time, each wanting treats and scritches before they’d bother leaving her windowsill. The droppings she washed off herself, not wanting her parents to get wise to the one negative aspect of owl post. That lecture she could deal without.

One day, nearly a month in, Eli received a letter from a new owl, but it was bearing a letter penned in a hand other than Simon’s, which was odd. She took the letter and offered the owl some treats while she sank onto her bed, examining the letter. The writing was familiar, but not something she recognized instantly, which allowed her to rule a few things out—first and foremost was Hogwarts. Those always had the school’s crest on them, besides.

Impatient, Eli ripped the letter open and eagerly began to read it. But the whole thing was so…confusing that she had to read it five times to really take it in.

 

_Miss Chaplain,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I apologize if you find this intrusive, but I felt you had plenty of unresolved concerns at the end of the year, so I wanted to open a sort of dialogue to let you voice and ask whatever you still needed to. There are some truths I don’t dare write down, but if it comes up I’m happy to meet you in Diagon Alley to talk in person._

_Your potion worked wonders, I’m sure it will please you to know. Severus himself couldn’t have done better._

_Thank you for your assistance. I would be far worse off without your help, truly. You should be proud of yourself, for what you’ve accomplished. I know I’m proud of you._

_I may not be your teacher anymore, but I’m still around if you need any advice._

  1. _J. Lupin_



 

After her fifth read-through, Eli finally set the letter aside and flopped backwards on her bed. Professor Lupin had become something of a father-figure to her, during his single year tenure at Hogwarts. And he was right, she felt like she still had hundreds of questions, but none of them seemed important at the time, except one. She was still fixated on Evangeline McKinnon. So, resigning herself, Eli sat down and penned him a letter in return, while the owl watched her curiously.

 

_Professor Lupin,_

_I’m so glad to hear I was able to help. I really didn’t think I could, so thank you for believing in me and trusting me not to poison you, too._

_I suppose what’s still eating at me is Evangeline McKinnon. I know you told me before to just forget about it, to put it out of my mind, but I can’t do that anymore. Somehow I think you know more than you’ve let on until now, and whatever it is, if it takes a trip to find out, I believe I deserve to know after everything._

_Well, you aren’t my teacher, like you said._

_Last year left me with more questions than answers. I’m working through that but anything you can tell me, I’d appreciate, because right now I feel I don’t have_ any _answers._

_Thank you for writing me, though. I’m happy you’re all right—I’m assuming you’d tell me otherwise, honestly—and I hope things won’t be too rough in a couple weeks._

_Eli_

 

Finished with that, she rolled it up and tied it to the owl’s leg, offering him another treat before he flew out the window, back to wherever he’d come from. Eli then turned back to the new potion she was trying to write, deciding a little brain exercise would help her distract herself.

Over the next couple weeks, she wrote back and forth to Professor Lupin several times, as well as her friends—until finally, Errol forgot which window was Eli’s and flew right into the living room.

“Eliana!”

She’d been deep in calculations of how much essence of dittany she’d need for her pseudo-skin potion, so it took several tries for her father to get her attention. Once he’d succeeded, though, Eli raced down the stairs and into the living room, unsure why she was in trouble but not wanting to delay it—only to find Errol sitting on the mantle.

“Oh, bugger,” Eli groaned.

“Language, please,” her mother told her quietly.

Eli made a face, but nodded all the same—when your friends’ owl lands in your living room instead of bedroom, you don’t argue.

“What is that bird doing in here?” her father asked, his voice not quite thunderous but definitely unhappy. He was just on the edge of furious, and she _really_ didn’t want to tip him over to the wrong side. It’d be miserable for days.

She shrugged, offering Errol an arm to hop onto. Naturally, he missed, so she caught the little owl and deposited him on her shoulder for safekeeping. “He’s not got his head on straight, I’m sorry.”

Her father, Maxwell Chaplain, was an intimidating man on a good day—but the look that came over his face made Eli shrink back and tilt Errol away, not wanting him to face any of her father’s wrath. “Eliana,” he began slowly—a bad sign. “I won’t have any owls landing in my living room, do you understand?”

Defiance swelled in her. “I can’t help it, you can’t really tell Errol what to do.”

“Then your friends should find a different way to communicate with you,” her father suggested, his tone going almost icy.

Her mother, Caroline, intervened to stop the looming argument. “Couldn’t they use the regular post?” she asked. “I know it’s a bit slower, sweetie, but you wouldn’t have to worry about the owls, then.”

“I don’t _worry_ about them. We have an owlery at school, I’m used to it by now. And anyway, we tried that the summer after my first year. There isn’t a post office anywhere near them, and I can’t ask them to travel over an hour away just to post a letter when we can do it this way.” Eli crossed her arms, nearly upending Errol. “I won’t stop talking to them just because an owl went into the wrong room. Besides, I thought you were fine with it, I’ve been sending owls for five years now.”

“It’s a bit different when we’re expecting it,” her mother tried, looking anxiously between her husband and daughter.

But Eli’s father wouldn’t be pacified. He shook his head, muttered something under his breath, and then announced, “No. I won’t have it. You wrote us maybe once a month, which is tolerable, but every single day… It’s too disruptive.” He gave Eli a look that dared her to fight back. “No more owls, Eliana.”

“You can’t do that!” Eli shouted, furious. “You can’t make me sacrifice my friendships for your comfort!”

“I can and I am!” he yelled right back, squaring his shoulders and glaring her down. “We have put up with a lot of this magical stuff since you started going to that school, but I will not tolerate _owls_ flying in and out of my house at all hours!”

She gripped the letter Errol had delivered tightly, nearly ripping it. Just like she’d thought! They only put up with her magical side when they had to—they’d never truly accepted her. “You always wanted me to hide it,” she accused, unable to back down. “You’ve never been okay with who I am! I can’t just turn it off, I can’t come home in the summer and pretend to be a muggle when I’m not!”

“Don’t say that word!” her father snapped.

Eli sneered at him. “It’s not a curse word! It just means non-magical, it’s nothing bad. But _you_ just don’t like it because it reminds you that I’m different!” Afraid suddenly that he’d take her letter, she fled the room, sprinting up into her bedroom and locking the door behind her. “I’m sorry, Errol,” she murmured, placing the bird on the back of her desk chair and leaning against the wall nearby. Aware that her father was pounding up the stairs after her, Eli, quickly broke the seal and opened the letter.

 

_Eli,_

_Get really bloody excited because we’re going to the Quidditch World Cup! Dad got tickets through work, and he managed to snag them for all of us—you and Simon, and Ron’s friends too. It’s in a week’s time, Mum said you can come a couple days before and then stay with us until term starts. She’s actually letting me and Fred go into London on our own this year, to pick you up, so maybe you can show us a bit of the muggle side since we never get to see it._

_Think about it!_

_Please try to make Errol eat because the stupid arse bird has forgotten to eat the past three times we’ve sent him out._

_See you soon!_

_-George_

 

A way out, she realized. But if she wasn’t allowed to have owls come by, how would she ever arrange it? As her father reached the door, and began yelling angrily through it, Eli formulated a quick plan. She had most of her school things packed, save a few notebooks—everything always seemed out of place in her room, with all the muggle things—so she just quickly threw some clothes in, not even caring what she had, and flung the door open.

“You don’t need to worry about owls,” Eli told her father sharply, interrupting his tirade. “My friends invited me to spend the rest of the summer with them, we’re going to the Quidditch World Cup. So you have nothing to worry about until next year.”

“You’re leaving this early?” her mother asked, hovering uncertainly in the background.

Eli nodded firmly. She felt a bit bad, but then again…her mother wasn’t fighting back against her father’s ridiculous new rule. So not all that much remorse, then. “Then you two don’t have to worry about owls or getting me to Diagon Alley before school starts back up.” Even though it felt like something was breaking inside her, watching a bit of relief forming on her mother’s face, Eli pretended like she was as cool as ice. “I’ll take the train in later today.” Not that she knew where she’d go, once she made it to Diagon Alley. The Leaky Cauldron had rooms…if anything, she’d find space there overnight and hopefully someone would come get her in the morning. But she knew one thing for certain—she wasn’t going to spend a single day more in this house, not for a long time.

So Eli packed a few more things in her trunk, and sent Errol off with a letter to George, confirming she’d go to the Cup and also saying she’d write him later because a few things had happened and she just didn’t have time to get into it yet. Then she gathered her wits, accepted the bit of pocket money she was offered, kissed her mum goodbye, gave her father a polite head nod, and set off.

Eli wrote a second letter sitting on the train on her way to Charing Cross Station. She got a few strange looks, and one older woman asked why she was using a quill— _calligraphy_ , she lied easily—but for the most part people left her and her large trunk alone.

As the Leaky Cauldron was the gateway to Diagon Alley, therefore seeing many students and out-of-town magical visitors, they had a luggage check service offered for short-term visitors. For a small fee, one could leave all their belongings in a safe room at the pub, and come back to fetch them later. Eli took advantage of that, since she didn’t fancy dragging her trunk all through the streets. Then she set off, letter safely in her pocket, and headed straight for the owl post office nearby.

It cost a bit extra, but Eli figured it was cheaper than a night at the Leaky Cauldron—so she used the office’s fastest owl to send her letter, which came with the guarantee that if the recipient was within the UK’s borders, it’d arrive the same day. Since she was going to be close by waiting for a reply, they gave her a little glass ball that would turn red when a letter arrived for her, as well as emit a soft chiming tone as an alert. Eli tucked it away in her jeans pocket and decided to find a place to eat, since she’d skipped breakfast that morning.

She settled up in a little touristy pub, tucked away in a far back corner with a butterbeer and some shepherd’s pie, hoping she’d only have to spend one day on her own. Eli wasn’t allowing herself to focus on what had happened, but it was slowly eating at her mind—the way her parents regarded her, the confirmation she’d gotten…

_Keep it together,_ she told herself firmly. _You can’t lose your head just yet._

Finally, just as she was finishing her pie, the bauble in her pocket chirped lightly, and Eli pulled it out to check. Sure enough it had turned a deep crimson red. So she left the pub, dropping a couple coins on the table as she went, and all but sprinted back to the owl post office.

The witch at the desk passed her a letter, took the bauble back, and bid her good day—but Eli wasn’t listening. She was already tearing into her letter, desperately hopeful.

 

_Miss Chaplain,_

_Meet me in the Leaky Cauldron at half past two. Don’t rent a room, you’ve got plenty of people who care for you far too much to let you stay in a pub instead of a home._

  1. _J. Lupin_



 

Eli sank against the outside wall of the post office in relief. She hadn’t yet had the heart to explain everything to George, which meant she didn’t have the option to go straight to the Weasleys’—but she’d dumped it all in a letter for Professor Lupin, hoping he might aid her, since she had nowhere else to go for the night. She hadn’t even begun to deal with the day herself, how could she even begin to work through it with them? Simon and the twins would have endless questions for her, they’d prod and pick and need to know every little detail, not to mention they’d worry about how she felt, what she was going to do… But she’d known Professor Lupin wouldn’t do anything of the sort. Or, rather, she’d hoped he wouldn’t, and the risk had paid off.

She passed the next couple hours wandering in and out of shops, picking up a couple items for Simon and the twins, plus a poster of Ginny’s favorite Quidditch team the Holyhead Harpies. As she’d be showing up a bit out of the blue, presents seemed in order. It might distract the boys from asking too many questions right away, as well, something she definitely would prefer.

At three-twenty-five, Eli stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, scanning the crowds uncertainly. So far she didn’t recognize anyone, but that didn’t mean anything yet, she was early and it was a pretty big place regardless. Still, anxiety trickled through her—what if he didn’t come? What if he decided it wasn’t worth the effort? Or that she ought to go back home instead, regardless of what happened? She tried to quash those worries, but they still clung to the back of her mind as she walked through the tables, trying to seem like she belonged.

A hand caught her sleeve and spun her around forcefully. Eli noticed in moments it wasn’t Professor Lupin—it was Marcus Flint, who had just graduated earlier in the year, after repeating his seventh year. “Well, if it isn’t my old teammate,” he sneered.

Eli tried to pull away from him, but he was stronger and held fast. “Let go of me, Flint,” she demanded harshly, her right hand resting on her wand even though she couldn’t do anything with it. The pub was busy enough that nobody had noticed the altercation yet, which meant she was on her own, unless she wanted to make a spectacle.

“Why?” He leaned in closer, his eyes narrow and his face a mask of absolute rage. “Why should I do _anything_ you say, mudblood?”

The name didn’t sting like it usually did, but Eli chalked it up to the adrenaline in her system. She was down to her wit and will, no magic, against someone who was physically much stronger—not to mention he could use magic, and hated her deeply. She wasn’t one to just give up, though, so she twisted her arm until it hurt, forcing him to let go at the very least. “Back off,” Eli ordered, gripping her wand tighter now. Did the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery cover dangerous altercations with ex-housemates? Could she get away with a simple disarming charm to save her own skin?

“I suggest you release her, Mr. Flint,” a different voice spoke up, level but threatening. Eli couldn’t help but grin—she knew that voice.

Professor Lupin nudged his wand hard into Flint’s back, forcing him to move aside. “Now, if I ever see you near Miss Chaplain again, you’ll find I won’t let you off so easy.” His wand glowed red at the tip, threatening but not doing anything just yet. It was enough to scare Flint into bailing, though, as he suddenly couldn’t get out of the pub fast enough.

“Thanks,” Eli breathed, letting go of her wand in relief.

He didn’t say anything until he’d guided her across the room, to a table, and settled down opposite her—but Eli didn’t mind. She was still reeling. Of course she’d known Flint hated her, but not like that, not accosting-her-in-public hatred.

“Are you all right, Eli?” he asked her softly, squinting as he looked her over.

She nodded quickly. “I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me.” Only her pride was injured—she wasn’t used to not being able to defend herself, not having magic at her disposal to fend off anyone who might want to screw with her. “I just hate that I couldn’t do anything against him.”

Professor Lupin gave her a wry grin. “I saw you going for your wand, you know… You _might_ be able to explain the use of underage magic, but I’m surprised you didn’t simply punch him.”

Eli twisted her hair around her finger absently. “Well, I didn’t want to make a spectacle of myself, really. Otherwise I might’ve.” She wasn’t going to admit that with everything else, she’d frozen pretty spectacularly. Absolutely not. So instead she leaned into the table and dove right into the elephant in the room. “Um…thank you for coming, Professor… I’m sorry I dragged you out on short notice like this.”

“It’s all right, really,” he assured her. “I’m glad you wrote me. How are you doing? You said your parents…were going to restrict your ability to speak to your friends?”

“My dad decided no more owls in the house,” Eli explained, crossing her arms. “They wanted to smother me…or, I mean, wanted to smother the fact that I’m a witch. They’d rather me act like a muggle when I’m there.”

Professor Lupin nodded, considering that. “So you…ran away?”

Eli flushed. It wasn’t said like an accusation, but she could sense disappointment just moments away. “No. It was Errol that set it off, he flew into the living room instead of my bedroom… He’d brought me a letter from George telling me in a week’s time we’re all going to the Quidditch World Cup. So I just…moved that up a little.”

“Ah.” He smiled knowingly. “So you lied, then.”

That wasn’t the slightest bit insulting to her, actually. “Well, yes. Better than just…just leaving, in the end. But I had to get out of there.”

“I know it isn’t fair, to try and put a restriction like that on you,” the professor began, giving her a serious look, “but they are still your parents.”

Eli frowned at him. “Are they, though? You’re the one who suggested otherwise.”

Now he looked a bit affronted. “I didn’t say that, Eli, I only thought you were because of the resemblance, but I didn’t once tell you that your parentage was incorrect.” Crossing his arms, he added, “You came up with that all on your own, through your own misgivings.”

“It was implied,” she argued back, though there was no venom from either of them.

He tilted his head. “But you wouldn’t be saying it if you didn’t think it was a possibility, would you?”

Damn if it wasn’t true… After the day she’d had, Eli was about ready to consider anything. And there was something about it, about Evangeline McKinnon and not her parents, very specifically… “My parents don’t have blond hair,” Eli murmured, touching her own curls thoughtfully. “Neither of them.” They were both brunettes, with darker eyes, while she was fair-haired and green-eyed.

“It doesn’t mean anything concrete,” he pointed out, resting one elbow on the table. But when she didn’t say anything, didn’t bother to qualify that with a response, he sighed and leaned in a bit closer, more conspiratorial. “I…I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine, whom I’m staying with for the moment. He knew Eva—Evangeline as well, and I haven’t told him any of this. At the very least it might be an outside opinion on the matter, yes?” Professor Lupin smiled and nodded at her suspicious face. “And so you know, I’ll have Mrs. Weasley accompany you, when we get around to it. She can stay the entire time, so you won’t be in an uncomfortable situation.”

Eli really wondered how he read her so well, sometimes, honestly. “That—sounds much better than what I was thinking.”

He waved at someone across the room, and Eli scarcely had time to look round before Mrs. Weasley herself had grabbed her in a hug. “Oh, Eli, dear! Remus owled me as soon as he heard what happened. You poor thing…”

Discomfort burned through her. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid!

“Now, Molly, we talked about this,” Professor Lupin murmured, a somewhat stern look growing on his face. “You weren’t going to fawn over her.”

Mrs. Weasley huffed and patted Eli’s head. “Well, it’s difficult not to… I can’t imagine telling my children they can’t speak with their friends. But I’d hate to make you uncomfortable, dear. Now, the boys don’t know where I am, and I understand you’d like to keep it that way, yes?”

Eli looked between them, slowly comprehending. For one reason or another, she couldn’t stay with Professor Lupin, so he’d contacted Mrs. Weasley instead of sending her to an inn or otherwise back to her parents—but he’d clearly recognized she didn’t want to be pestered, or admit what had happened to her friends yet, so he’d given express directions to her wizarding-world-mum not to coddle her too much. It was a sweet gesture, not offensive as she’d originally thought. “I—yes, if that’s all right,” Eli acknowledged, nodding.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. “Of course, don’t you worry. I’ll Apparate you straight to your room and you can come out whenever you’re ready.” She gave Eli another quick hug, pulling back fast this time, and added, “Now, I’ve got a bit of shopping to do. Why don’t you meet me at Florean Fortescue’s in an hour?”

Without hesitation, Eli nodded, deciding she was all right with the new plan. Really, she’d known the whole time it would be a lot to put on the professor, and she was grateful he’d actually come himself instead of just sending Mrs. Weasley.

“Excellent. You two just finish up and I’ll see you later, Eli,” Mrs. Weasley told her kindly, before bustling out of the pub, clearly on a mission.

“I was going to warn you,” Professor Lupin laughed, “but Molly must have been worried and rushed a bit. Sorry to just spring that on you, Eli… But without a place of my own just yet, there wasn’t much else I could do.”

She shook her head quickly. “I understand, it’s all right. It was a lot to put on you anyway.”

He waved her off, smiling, totally unbothered. “No, it wasn’t. I’m glad you reached out, and I hope this doesn’t put you off asking in the future, if you need anything.”

“Absolutely not.” Eli adjusted in her seat, pondering for a moment if she ought to ask, but then deciding _sod it_ and asked anyway. “Who’s your friend? The one you’re staying with. Would I have any idea who he is?”

That made him look a bit uncomfortable, and he couldn’t hide it very well. “You might, but that’s not a conversation for such a…public venue. He’s quite fond of his privacy, you see.” Oh, an absolute, bold-faced lie. And not a very good one, for he knew Eli could keep secrets and they were sequestered far enough away from the crowds—yet hidden by the noise level—that nobody would overhear anyway. Still, she let him have it, nodding and instead letting him change the subject. “Now, tell me, how did your exams go? I never got to hear about anything except Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Following his lead, Eli went into that, how she’d handled each subject, her hopes about the next year, and the anxiety she’d been sitting on since she knew the results would come with her Hogwarts letter for the upcoming school year. Conversation drifted after that, between her parents, the boys, the Quidditch World Cup—he wouldn’t be attending, but he was certain she’d enjoy it—and Eli felt herself relaxing, enjoying herself. It genuinely felt like he cared about how things were in her life.

When the hour was nearly up, he paid at the bar, denying Eli’s attempt to pay for the butterbeers she’d had, and then insisted upon walking her to the ice cream parlor rather than letting her go alone. “We wouldn’t want Mr. Flint getting any more ideas, would we?” he asked.

Eli huffed but allowed it, secretly pleased. “You think I can’t take him?”

“Perhaps not without your wand, hm? I think he’s twice your size.” Professor Lupin smirked and added, “With your wand, I’d say he wouldn’t stand a chance.”

That was much better. She was aware as they walked that he was conscious not to really brush against anyone—as if he thought himself a disease the others could catch just by being too close. It wasn’t even close to the truth, but it was a sad reminder of just how much his condition affected his life. Eli hated not being able to do anything about it, and nothing she might say would help in the slightest.

Well, she could _do_ one thing, though.

Acting like it was the most natural thing in the world, Eli crossed to his right—he’d been walking on her right, keeping her between him and the shops to their left—as if to look at a stall in the middle. And when she was finished with the play, she stepped back to his right and stayed there as they continued, making herself a sort of barrier against the other patrons. It didn’t go unnoticed, judging by the faint smile she noted, but he didn’t comment. It made her feel better, though.

“Well, this is where I leave you,” Professor Lupin told her as they stopped outside the ice cream parlor’s storefront. “Take care of yourself, please, no matter what happens. And write me anytime you’d like, night or day.”

She was grateful he’d reiterated—she still felt conscious asking for help. “Thank you, professor.”

“I’m not your professor anymore, Eli,” he pointed out, smiling. “It’s quite all right to call me Remus now, if you’d like. I’m not so formal.”

Eli wrinkled her nose up, but nodded anyway. “As long as you _never_ call me Eliana.”

“I promise,” he told her solemnly, teasing at the same time. Professor Lupin— _no, Remus_ , she reminded herself—stuck his hand out for a handshake, despite claiming not to be that formal, and Eli wasn’t having any of it. Instead she stepped past his hand and hugged him tightly, not only because _she_ wasn’t that formal but because she wanted, in some way, to prove she really wasn’t afraid of him. And when she pulled back, she knew her point had been made.

“I’ll see you around, Remus,” Eli told him, beaming. Then she ducked into the store, pleased she’d made it before Mrs. Weasley—she had every intention of grabbing an ice cream before she left.

\--

True to her word, Mrs. Weasley Apparated Eli straight to her room. She sent food up discretely for three days while Eli figured out exactly what she was going to say. Her wizarding-world-mum even went so far as to feign that Errol might have dropped a few letters, that she was missing a reply of her own and that might be why the twins hadn’t gotten anything from her. Then finally, just after dawn on the fourth day, Eli broke. She was lonely and hardly eating, not to mention the other half stone she’d lost, and she knew she had to face reality at some point.

So Eli dressed in jeans and a t-shirt of a muggle band she liked, and went straight to the twins’ room. They were both still asleep, but as she closed the door back, it clicked and roused them—she wasn’t sure if that was good or not. Fred was first up, looking around sleepily. He spotted Eli and squinted at her, bewildered, before he tossed a pillow at George, jolting his twin awake. “What the hell?” George grumbled. “It’s too early for this.”

Fred pointed at Eli. “Am I completely mad or is Eli in our room?”

“Is…what?” George rubbed his face. It took him a moment, but he realized she wasn’t a figment of his imagination, and yelped, “Eli!” Then, eyes wide, he shot out of bed, practically bowling her over as he jumped her and nearly crushing her in a tight hug.

Eli smiled even as tears pricked at her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she blurted immediately.

“Why are you sorry?” Fred asked, taking his turn at hugging her.

Guilt was an emotion she hated, but it was getting more and more familiar in recent times. Still, Eli didn’t want to keep the secret from them any longer. “I haven’t written because I’ve…been here,” she admitted.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Fred sounded very put out.

But George frowned. “What happened?”

“I kind of…had a row with my parents,” she explained. She’d have to go into it all now, and though she was dreading it, some part of her would be glad to spill it. “My dad decided he didn’t want any more owls coming to the house.”

“What?!”

“Why the hell not?”

Eli sank onto George’s bed and sighed. “Errol mixed up my bedroom with the living room.” When they both looked a combination of horrified and guilty, she hurried to add, “But I’d owled them before and it had never been a problem, it wasn’t about Errol or owls or anything like that… It was about me, that’s the problem.” She was quietly glad when they joined her on the bed, offering support while giving her room to explain. “See…they want me to…act like a muggle when I’m home.”

“Well that’s rubbish,” George griped. “You’re a witch, you can’t just turn it off when you’re not at school. Next year we’ll be able to do magic outside school too, do they think you’ll just not do it even though you can?”

Fred nodded his assent. “It’s not something that you can just stop. Don’t they understand that? I thought they were supportive?”

“I thought so too.” Eli drew her knees to her chest. “So after that, I couldn’t just stay there for another week without being able to write anyone… Since I’d gotten your letter about the Cup, I thought I’d just act like I was supposed to leave then. And so I wrote you back then and I left.”

“You just left?” George sounded astonished, while Fred sounded impressed.

Eli shrugged. “Pretty much.”

George frowned deeply. “But where did you go? Did you come straight here? How did you manage that?”

“Oh, well…” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I went to Diagon Alley, and I…I asked R—Professor Lupin to help me. He met me there and wound up contacting your mum to get me, and making sure I could…decide when I felt comfortable enough to talk about all this. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you, there’s just a lot more to this than a simple argument.”

“It’s that witch, right?” Fred asked.

George nodded. “Evangeline McKinnon. The one who looks like you.”

Eli couldn’t look at either of them, instead staring at the floor determinedly. She had only ever voiced this fully a couple times, and never so…concrete. “I’m beginning to wonder if she really might be my mother.”

“I mean…she does look exactly like you,” George admitted, though he looked like he didn’t want to say it. “But your parents have never suggested anything else, have they?”

“I haven’t asked.”

“Maybe you should,” Fred suggested easily.

Eli couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Oh, yes, that’ll go over well. Do you really think I can just ask my parents if I’m—adopted or whatever? I don’t think it’s that simple. Besides, all it’d take is a decent grasp of _obliviate_ and they’d have no clue what happened.”

Nodding reluctantly, George agreed, “That’s true… But they might know something.”

“I think my best options are here in the wizarding world,” she sighed wearily. “Not through them. Besides, if it turns out to be nothing, then I’d hate to put another thing between us.”

Eli guided the conversation elsewhere, getting the twins distracted by with talk of the Quidditch World Cup and how that would go—Fred told her he’d arranged for Simon to get there the same day as Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger was coming the next morning, apparently. It’d be quite a group. But she was excited, both for the event and for the distraction it would provide, especially since she had to worry about the whole mess regarding her parentage on top of stressing about her upcoming OWL results.

Thankfully, the next few days passed quickly. Eli was tempted to write her parents, just to spite them, but instead she just sent Remus a letter to thank him and assure him she was settled in at the Weasleys’, and contented herself with that. And soon enough, she was tossing and turning in her bed the night before the Cup, both excited and a bit nervous. On a pallet nearby, Simon was snoring faintly, clearly not sharing the same anxieties as her—she was glad for that, at least. When he’d arrived with Harry earlier—they’d come together, seeing as they lived nearby each other—he’d been a bundle of nerves.

Morning dawned and Eli dressed in an off-shoulder white shirt, a grey-blue jumpsuit, tights with hearts printed on them, and a pair of white shoes with a heel small enough the twins wouldn’t make fun of her. At least, she hoped. Breakfast wasn’t even happening since it was so early Mr. Weasley didn’t want to rouse Mrs. Weasley, and the group set off before the sun was even fully in the sky.

“So we’re all in one tent?” Eli asked, too tired to know whom she was addressing.

“S’all right,” George reassured her. “It’s extended inside, we’ve got plenty of room.” Ever since Eli’s confession, the twins had gone out of their way to make sure she was comfortable, and once she’d explained it all to Simon he’d joined them. It meant far more than she’d actually admit.

While nobody bothered to clue Harry, Ron, and Hermione in on what a Portkey actually did, Mrs. Weasley thankfully took hold of Eli’s arm and helped her get to the ground safely, instead of just tumbling. So her friends weren’t the only ones looking after her. For the time being it was nice, but she knew it’d start grating at some point.

Just as George had said, the tent was extended probably about as far as it could go inside, with separate sides for the girls and boys. Eli tucked her backpack away underneath a corner bed and went to sit nearby the twins, who had taken up residence at the very center, if only to pester everyone else. She didn’t participate until she got pelted with a bit of biscuit—she didn’t know who had thrown it—and that broke through her veil of apathy. She spent the rest of the morning racing around with the others, going between silly pranks and throwing food, and when it came time to head down to the pitch, she was red in the face and grinning. Prior to heading down, she’d helped the twins paint their faces with green and white clovers in support of the Irish, and Ron had even asked her to do some on him for Bulgaria. Simon demanded she color his hair entirely green with a magical dye she’d been working on, which first turned a violent neon green, before settling to a leafier shade. Eli herself was remaining neutral in this particular match-up, but she had donned a red scarf to try and balance it out, as the Weasley family tended towards the Irish.

The match was just as amazing as she’d thought it’d be—and a perfect distraction. She forgot all about her worries and got caught up in the excitement, cheering the players on and following the game closely. Hermione didn’t follow it as well as everyone else did—being a non-player—so Eli took it upon herself to relay information to the other girl, keeping her involved and probably earning more than a few brownie points in the process. In the end, half the stadium was disappointed when the Bulgarian Seeker caught the Snitch, but didn’t win the game, handing it over instead to Ireland.

They all trooped back afterwards, laughing and talking in a big group. Eli was listening to Fred and Simon recounting the moment Connolly—one of Ireland’s Beaters—had flown right over their heads when she froze up in the pathway, realizing something shocking.

She had _never_ felt this comfortable in her own family. Caroline and Maxwell Chaplain had been good parents, but she just hadn’t quite fit in properly, not even as a child, since her magic had manifested so early. This, right here, with this group of people, was the most content she’d ever been. It was absolutely staggering to realize, to notice how different it felt to _really_ belong somewhere.

Without her noticing, the others moved on ahead, letting Eli trail behind, lost in her thoughts. In fact, she didn’t notice at all until someone touched her arm, making her stop. “Eli, hey, you look like you’re about to think a hole into the universe,” George teased, smirking faintly. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just…” Eli sighed and broke off, unsure what to say. “It’s odd…not fitting in with your own family,” she admitted to him finally. “I can’t imagine doing anything like _this_ with my parents, ever. It’s always been about hiding me, about keeping my…abilities, my magic hidden. So we never really did anything as a family. Spending time with your family since that first Christmas… That’s the only time I’ve ever actually felt like I’m part of a family.”

George looked thoughtful for a moment, before he smiled broadly and wrapped his arms around her. “You _are_ part of a family, Eli,” he told her gently. “You’re part of our family.”

Eli’s heart soared, and she pressed her face into his shoulder to avoid him seeing the pink flush creeping over her cheeks. She was a Slytherin, and an unflappable person to boot—she did not _blush_ when someone hugged her. At least…she wouldn’t let a boy see her blush. Not like this.

They rejoined the others, their absence mercifully going unnoticed, and Eli let herself join in the celebrations, taking a seat near Simon while the twins circled the room, making fun of the others and especially picking on Ron, as they usually did. “It’s much better with you here,” she told Simon, grinning. “At least the twins don’t just drag me everywhere with them.”

He laughed, seeming pleased. “Well, I’ll try to convince mum to let me come during Christmas again. Maybe she’ll want to see Rosalyn again and I won’t…” But he trailed off, tipping his head to one side. “D’you hear that?”

Eli strained her ears to hear whatever had caught his attention. “What is it?” She could hear it too—this building noise, almost like a party or celebration but somehow…not. A chill slid down her spine, though she had no real reason for it. “Are they…celebrating?” she asked, sitting up straight and glancing at Simon worriedly now.

“Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on,” Fred laughed, oblivious to her worry.

The twins went back to their tormenting Ron—until Mr. Weasley burst into the tent, wand out, and yelled, “Stop! Stop it. Listen to me.” The tent fell silent, all eyes fixated on him. “It’s not the Irish. We’ve got to get out of here. Now!”

Eli felt, for a moment, like she could faint. But it passed quickly and she leapt to her feet, following close behind the twins as the whole group burst outside—and into utter chaos.

Fire burned in several places throughout the campsite, filling the air with acrid smoke and setting the sky aglow with eerie orange light. Eli skidded to a halt just behind Simon, her chest seizing up as she looked around, catching snatches of conversation and terrified screaming as people raced past them.

“Get back to the portkey, everybody, and stay together!” Mr. Weasley commanded fiercely. He drew close to Eli, Simon, and the twins, beckoning to them. “You four! Ginny is _your_ responsibility!”

“What about you?” George asked, frowning.

Mr. Weasley shook his head. “I’ve got to go help. Stay close together!” He turned and sprinted off into the gloom, and Eli reacted first, catching Ginny’s arm and tugging the younger girl against her side. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had already vanished, leaving the five behind—which, honestly, Eli didn’t like. She knew it would end badly, getting separated already, but then again she didn’t blame the fourth-years for being afraid. “We’ve got to go,” she urged the others quickly. “Come on, wands out.”

Fred eyed her, even as he followed her away from the tent, among the throng of panicking people. “We can’t do magic outside school.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Eli snapped, yanking her wand from her pants pocket. “Do you want to worry about underage sorcery, or do you want to protect yourself?” It was a quick decision, but she felt the situation warranted it—whatever riot or otherwise horrible event was taking place, she figured a little underage magic in self-defense would be justified. If Professor Lupin—Remus thought she could’ve gotten away with hexing Marcus Flint in the Leaky Cauldron, this _certainly_ would be a reasonable use.

Thankfully, the boys—and Ginny—seemed to agree, and all pulled their wands out as the five hurried along, following the general direction of the mass, albeit a bit slower. Eli didn’t subscribe to herd mentality, and she didn’t want to risk getting trampled if something happened and made the crowd stampede.

Fire roared up ahead of the crowd, and the mass of people shrieked, yelled, ran in all directions to get away. Eli reached out and frantically caught onto George as she stumbled, nearly falling as a wizard in bright green robes shoved past her. The moment she was steady, she took Ginny’s hand and pulled her out of the main pathway, the boys right on their heels, and they took refuge against the side of an abandoned tent while the crowd panicked and ran. Maybe against her better judgment, Eli tucked her wand away, leaving her hands free to keep her balance.

“What the bloody hell do you think it is?” Fred asked breathlessly, eyeing the fire warily.

“No idea.” Eli shoved a strand of blonde hair out of her face and lifted off her knees, trying to gauge if it were safe to move again or not. “But whatever it is-”

A plume of black smoke detached from the cloud above the newly-ignited fire and swept along the sky, unnaturally, in such a way that Eli knew it was… _alive_. “Get down!” she hissed, frantic—but it was too late.

The smoke suddenly turned, spiraling down, and landed with a crackle of energy, right in front of her. From the thick black smoke, a figure rose up, cloaked in black and face covered with a hideous black and white mask—and a wand held mere inches from Eli’s face. “Stay back or she dies!” the man hissed, grey eyes flicking to look behind her, where she had no doubt the twins and Simon had moved to defend her.

Eli felt her lip quaver, and bit it until she tasted blood. She would _not_ be a victim, dammit! She would _not_ cry! A girl—even a sixteen-year-old-girl—who could conjure a corporeal Patronus, who hexed well enough to make most of her housemates afraid of her or at least wary, who had brewed a successful Wolfsbane potion at _fifteen_. No. She would not let whoever this was intimidate her, or hurt her friends! Her _family_!

“Get away from us,” Eli snarled, rising to her toes inside her shoes.

He tilted his head to one side, almost unnaturally, eyeing her like prey. “Who’s going to make me?” he laughed, his voice a rasp. “You, little girl?”

Eli’s palms burned hot, and she was suddenly glad she’d put her wand up. She might’ve lit it on fire by that point otherwise. “Don’t call me a little girl.” Her voice came out oddly still, with her focus entirely on keeping herself from lighting on fire. _Not again, not now…_ “Leave us alone!”

“I don’t think so.” The cloaked man made a grab for Ginny, who jerked just out of reach. He growled and tried it again, and Eli lost her control. She spun round and grabbed him with both hands, gripping tight to his robes for a moment before shoving him away with all her might. As she pressed her palms against him, fire wreathed her hands, igniting his cloak and sending him flying away with a burst of flames.

Screaming and cursing in pain, he wrapped himself in black smoke and shot into the sky, trailing orange fire for a moment until it flickered out.

“Eli!”

She hadn’t realized she was falling until George caught her before she hit the ground, just barely stopping her from hitting her head.

“What was that?” Fred asked incredulously. “What did she do?!”

“I don’t know, she… Once I saw her glowing, at the Burrow, and she ran outside… But she…” Simon broke off, sounding bewildered. “I didn’t know.”

George was the only one who didn’t seem confused. “Just leave it be,” he told them firmly. “Eli, are you okay?” This was directed at the semi-conscious girl in his arms, though she was hardly aware of it. All her life, ever since she was a child, the fire that erupted from her in high-intensity situations, or when her emotions got out of control, had been a bad thing… She’d burned countless favorite toys, clothes, nearly hurt other children before her parents had the sense to keep her separate… Yet she’d just used it to _save_ herself, to save the twins and Simon and Ginny. Was it…not a horrible thing at all? Eli’s whole view of herself felt like it had gone askew again, and she wasn’t sure what to think.

“I…” Eli pushed out of his arms and rose to her feet, breathing a bit hard. “I’m fine. We’ve got to get out of here. Whoever he was, I bet he’ll come looking for us, with friends this time.” She almost reached for Ginny—but then thought better of it. Who’d really want to touch her hands, after that? Who’d want to be close to her? For a moment, tears pricked at her eyes. Just when she’d found friends, a family…she was going to scare them all away. Protection or not, she’d shot _fire_ from her bloody _hands_. Nobody would ever trust her again.

Eli kept her hands pressed against her own body as they walked, picking their way through destroyed tents and following the distant sounds of people to guide them, eventually coming out into what looked like a Ministry-run triage center. Good. That meant safety, meant Aurors and protection for the others. As soon as she’d ascertained that it was safe, Eli turned and gave Simon and the twins a sad smile—then she spun round and ducked away, sprinting first to one side and then the other, ignoring their frantic cries as she vanished into the destroyed campsite.


	9. A Goblet and an Argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to a more reasonable chapter length here, I'd say - though I know some of the later chapters will get pretty long too. Anyway! I hope you've been enjoying Eli's journey so far! <3 I would adore hearing your thoughts on her, on the characterizations, anything! Much love for everyone who's been reading, leaving kudos, and especial love for my lovely lone reviewer. Enjoy!

Eli kept running until her lungs burned and her vision clouded, finally collapsing beside a charred tent and pressing her hands to her face. Years of work, years of control—sometimes ragged but always _control_ —all gone to waste. She could hardly bear it. There was no chance of the Weasleys trusting her again, not in their house, certainly not in their lives, not after what she’d done… Magic came from wands, it came from a controllable, single channel, not just…from one’s _hands_. That was something else, something dangerous and distinctly _other_ , and Eli knew it was too much for anyone to handle. It was too terrible. And even though she’d used it for good, she couldn’t guarantee anyone’s safety around her.

She didn’t know what she was going to do, where to go this time… When she’d ostensibly run away from home, she’d still felt like she was running towards someone, towards family and a new home… But not anymore. Now… Now it just felt like she was running away from everyone. And she had no idea who would help her after all this.

When she heard voices, growing nearer to where she’d crumpled, Eli staggered to her feet and forced her weary legs to carry her further, away from whoever was coming. It could be whoever had attacked earlier, though from the general quiet and lack of explosions, she felt that was unlikely—or maybe it was Aurors coming to lock her up. Either way, she needed to move, and quickly. No matter how exhausted she was.

“Eli!”

Someone was yelling for her. Or perhaps several people. Ministry workers wouldn’t call her _Eli_ , but that meant…

_No._ It didn’t matter. She had to get away.

Eli skidded around a tent and leapt over the broken-down remnants of another. But as she landed, her foot caught on a piece of wood she’d missed, and she went down hard, with a noise nobody could miss.

“Eli?!”

No, no, no! Eli shoved to her feet, ignoring the splinters digging into her palms as she pushed off the pile of broken wood, and tried to keep running. But as she rounded the tent, she rammed straight into someone’s chest. Panic engulfed her and she tried to shove them away, but they simply caught her in their arms, holding her tight and pressing one hand to the back of her head. “Shh, don’t run, I’ve got you,” a voice murmured.

Eli choked back a sob. _Remus_. When had he gotten there?!

“It’s all right, I know you’re afraid, but you don’t have anything to worry about,” he soothed, still holding her firmly even as she stopped struggling.

“I can’t—they all saw…” Eli hiccupped and closed her mouth against the wavering in her voice, her heart fluttering in her chest like a caged bird. She wasn’t afraid of being attacked—she was afraid of being locked up, of losing everyone she cared for, it wasn’t about the hooded wizards who had blown up the campsite.

But Remus shook his head, releasing her just enough to look her in the eyes. “No one is frightened of you, Eli,” he told her gently. “I promise.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he interrupted. “Trust me, please.”

She let out a slow breath, trying to settle her heart. No part of her wanted to believe him…and yet…he wouldn’t lie to her, he was perhaps the one person who understood what she was going through—being dangerous, and having everyone else find out about it, against her will. Eli’s instinct, among all the adrenaline and chaos, had been to believe they would all judge her and turn against her. Yet didn’t they all know about Remus being a werewolf? How was that so different from what she could do, give or take a little regularity? God, she was an idiot, really and truly. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out, a cold veil of sorrow draping over her. Maybe they wouldn’t have hated her for what she’d done… But would they now?

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he told her kindly. Then he paused, smirked just a bit, and added, “Well, perhaps for running away, but no one can blame you for that.” Remus moved to simply place his arm around her shoulders, guiding her off through the tents and towards what she guessed was the same triage site she’d run away from. “I know what you’re going through,” he confided, a bit quieter. “But I can assure you, your friends are only worried about your safety. They called what you did _heroic_ , in fact.”

Heroic? Not…not terrifying but _heroic_? How was that even possible?

And yet…

Eli stole a glance up at the man who was steadily becoming more of a father than her actual father. She wasn’t afraid of him. Nor was Mrs. Weasley, and there was no doubt in her mind that her wizarding-world-mum knew about his affliction. And she wasn’t afraid of him, clearly. Nor were the twins, Simon, any of the Weasleys… So maybe he was right.

“Heroic,” she scoffed, finding some of her usual inner stamina. “I didn’t even mean to do it.”

“You did mean to stand your ground, though,” Remus pointed out. “I heard all of it—you were going to defend your friends, somehow.”

He wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t feel like qualifying it at the moment. “It was all just…instinct, I didn’t even have time to think it out, honestly. I was just reacting.” Eli didn’t want to dwell on that, though, so she spoke up again before he could reply. “Who were they? The ones in those masks?”

Remus’s face turned grave. “They were…Death Eaters.”

The very words send chills cascading down Eli’s spine, though she didn’t know what the name meant. “Death Eaters,” she repeated, testing the evil name out. “And…what are they, exactly?”

“Followers of you-know-who,” he told her, sounding as if he didn’t really want to admit it, yet didn’t want to lie to her either. “And before you ask, no, we don’t know what it means, beyond him gaining strength. They wouldn’t dare attempt something like this unless their leader wouldn’t be far behind.”

Eli felt very, very cold. “So it means…it means the world is about to get a hell of a lot more dangerous.”

His arm tightened around her shoulders. “I’m afraid so.”

They approached the triage site—and then, to Eli’s surprise, passed it after Remus checked in with a frazzled-looking witch, who directed a quill to mark Eli’s name off a list somewhere. Then they headed away from the chaos, past the borders of the campsite, and crossed a magical barrier. As they passed through, Eli had the sensation of going through a curtain of cold water. When it faded, she peered over her shoulder, and sure enough, the entire campsite had vanished. So they’d crossed the site’s protective borders, then. “Everyone already went back to the Burrow,” Remus explained, inclining his head. “Molly wanted them home as soon as possible. Arthur has been busy assisting in the rescue and recovery efforts, you weren’t the only one to go missing, I’ll have you know.”

She frowned, confused. Something didn’t quite add up. “But…why are you here?” she asked. Then, realizing how awfully rude it sounded, Eli crossed her arms and huffed at herself. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean it that way. I just know you didn’t want to come, crowds and all that, so I just… I’m just trying to understand what happened, that’s all.” One day her forthcoming attitude—in other words, her inability to think before she spoke—was going to get her in serious trouble.

Thankfully, he seemed to understand, not getting upset in the slightest at her thoughtless comment. “Molly sent for me as soon as she heard, and I Apparated here once Arthur told us you’d run off.” He smiled a bit _too_ easily, and Eli saw right through it—he was a bit embarrassed of himself. “Your friends explained what happened, so I…” Remus sighed, finally giving up all pretense and giving her a wary smile. “I had the feeling I knew exactly what you were going through, and I was right, wasn’t I? So I offered to find you myself.” He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “I’ve been in your position, Eli. But I promise, you’ll be all right.”

“You didn’t have to come all the way out here after me,” Eli murmured, feeling a bit ashamed. She’d seen firsthand how crowds affected him.

He just smirked. “Didn’t I?”

Eli wrinkled her nose at the comment, but chose not to reply to it. “So…where are we going, exactly?” she asked instead. “If anyone else had taken me outside magical barriers, I’d be worried, but…”

“Just getting far enough to Apparate to the Burrow,” Remus explained lightly, shooting her a withering look. “Now, I’ll warn you, your friends were very…concerned. I’d prepare myself, if I were you.” He offered Eli an arm, which she took, gripping down hard as she dared in preparation. Side-along Apparition wasn’t her favorite pastime, most definitely, but it was a necessary evil. At least until she came of age and could do it herself.

Eli’s head hadn’t even stopped spinning before Simon and the twins were on her, switching between embracing her and scolding her for running off, until she found herself in peals of laughter, too elated to contain it—but they didn’t hate her! “I’m sorry,” she gasped out finally, beaming at them. “I’m just—are you sure you don’t think I’m…terrifying?”

“Are you kidding?” Fred laughed.

“You shot fire out of your bloody _hands_!” George added on. “It’s brilliant!”

Simon grinned and tossed his arm around her shoulders. “And you saved all our arses, Eli. Ginny thought it was incredible too.”

Practically pushing Simon off, George stepped in and hugged her tightly, fiercely, knocking the wind out of her. “Don’t you _ever_ do that again,” he whispered, for her ears only.

The boys hurried her inside, into Mrs. Weasley’s waiting arms, and as the woman doted on her, Eli glanced back at Remus, who had taken up a quiet, nonchalant position by the door, and smiled at him. _‘Thank you,’_ she mouthed. He only inclined his head in return, but she understood. This was something that would stay between them—her overwhelming fear, the mutual understanding of revealing a secret of that magnitude and all the confusion and emotion that came from it…

But for now, she was just going to be with her family. That was all that mattered.

\--

Late that night, Eli pulled a sweater on over her pyjamas and snuck downstairs, her toes cold inside her socks—but she didn’t really care. She couldn’t sleep, and tossing around in her bed wasn’t helping. Instead, she curled up on the couch and burrowed into her sweater, staring across the room at the photo containing Evangeline McKinnon. For once, she didn’t feel taunted by the photograph, but she still wasn’t at ease about it—more and more she had begun to consider the witch some kind of…distant relative, maybe, because how could she be a mother? Eli had ended up outside the wizarding world somehow, ended up raised by muggles and separated from everything… Whoever that woman was, she wasn’t Eli’s mother.

“Can’t sleep?”

Eli turned to see George only a few steps behind her. How had he managed to sneak up on her like that? She must be more out of it than she thought. “No,” she acknowledged. “My mind won’t calm down.”

He grinned and nodded, coming around to sit beside her and tucking his feet up underneath him as well, mirroring her. “Well, today was…” His usually infallible smile faded away. “A mess.”

“Can’t argue with that.” She leaned back and pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes, sighing. There weren’t even words to describe it. “I really am sorry I ran off, y’know,” she murmured, picking at her nails. “I just thought…you’d all think I’m… Well… Dangerous.”

George eyed her curiously. “Well… You _are_. Just not to us. Look, Eli, I put it together, what happened Christmas Eve… You got upset and ran outside so you wouldn’t hurt Simon, or the house. Right?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “I trust you. I know you’d never do anything to hurt us, and that night— _and_ what happened at the Cup—is proof. You protected us, you protected Ginny. That’s what matters.” He reached out and caught her hands in his, giving her a firm yet sweet look. “I’m not afraid of you, Eli. I’ll never be afraid of you. I promise.”

She closed her eyes, just letting it soak in for a moment. He wasn’t afraid of her, he didn’t hate her… “Thank you,” Eli whispered, peering at him almost through her eyelashes. George was close to her, much more than she’d realized, his legs almost touching hers, his face so near she could count the freckles across his nose… Her whole body felt alive with energy, as if it ought to be glowing, but it wasn’t… He was just…so _close_ …

Eli sat back and breathed out, resisting the urge to press a hand to her chest. What the hell was that? She didn’t lose control that way, didn’t…get overwhelmed by her emotions that way. The day had just been too crazy, that was all, it was nothing more than runoff from the ups and downs of the day.

“Did…did you hear who did it?” she asked instead of anything else, wrapping her arms across her stomach.

George nodded reluctantly. “Death Eaters, wasn’t it?” He drew his knees to his chest. “Everything that’s happened… It’s only going to get worse, I know it. This is only the beginning and honestly, I don’t know that I want to see what’s coming next.” Looking weary, he added, “Ron…told me what happened at the end of last year. With Professor Lupin. Well, part of it.”

“What did he tell you?” It might be a little invasive, but Eli _really_ wanted to know.

“He…” George frowned deeply. “He transformed, completely. And Ron didn’t want to give me any other details, but he said somehow Professor Snape was involved, and—and Sirius Black…” He shrugged faintly, trying to brush it off. “All I know is you probably saved his arse that night.”

Eli screwed her mouth up, unhappy. It wasn’t really any extra information, but she didn’t want to disappoint George by telling him that—so she kept it to herself. “I don’t know about that. Made his life easier, for sure.” She tugged at a loose thread on her pyjamas as she thought, considering everything. “The Philosopher’s Stone… Ginny being dragged underneath the school by a basilisk… Sirius Black and the Dementors… And now Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup…” Eli shuddered involuntarily. “Remus said…that you-know-who is gaining power, George. He said that’s what the attack means. If that’s true…”

“Then he might bloody well come back,” he finished lowly. “Bloody hell.” George grabbed her hands back and squeezed down, giving her a serious look. “Be careful this year, Eli. Please.”

She nodded, gripping his hands in return. “You too.”

\--

The letter was taunting her.

Honestly, Eli was beginning to feel personally attacked by it, the way it just… _sat_ there.

“Are you ever going to open it?” Fred asked her dryly, coming to lean over the back of one of the dining table chairs. “Or are you just going to stare at it?”

“Leave her be, Fred,” Ginny grumbled from across the room. “At least she cares about her grades.”

The twins had gotten three OWLs each, much to Mrs. Weasley’s displeasure—they both insisted they had their minds on less academic pursuits, and it wouldn’t harm them in the long run, but she was still disappointed in them. Simon had achieved the OWLs he needed to move on in the classes he’d chosen, so he had nothing to worry about… But Eli couldn’t stop fretting. Especially over Defense Against the Dark Arts, because if she hadn’t gotten an O, then it’d be like she’d failed Remus somehow.

And, honestly, all the others. She wanted to be a Healer and if she’d ruined her chances…

“Go on and open it, Eli,” George encouraged, taking an identical spot to his twin. “You’ll be fine.”

She groaned loudly as she picked up the envelope, breaking the wax seal and tugging the parchment out without looking. With trembling fingers, Eli unfolded the parchment and finally opened her eyes, scowling a bit as the twins crowded around her, Simon just behind. Then she sucked in a deep breath and began to read.

 

_Arithmancy: O_

_Charms: O_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts: O_

_Herbology: O_

_Potions: O_

_Transfiguration: O_

 

“No way,” Fred breathed out, shocked.

Eli just sat stunned, unable to believe it. She’d gotten an O in every subject?! “Is this even possible?” Her voice came out in a shriek, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. An O in every bloody subject!

“What’s happened?” Mrs. Weasley asked worriedly, from the kitchen.

Ginny grinned and called, “I think Eli’s gotten six OWLs, mum!”

“ _What_?!”

Eli felt her face go bright red as Mrs. Weasley rushed over, checking the paper before giving her the biggest hug, beaming and congratulating her so genuinely. “Oh, Eli, this is wonderful! You’re absolutely on the right path, dear, you have nothing to worry about!” With a scowl, she jabbed her finger at the twins and added, “You two ought to pay more attention.”

“Blimey,” George laughed, reaching over and squeezing Eli’s shoulder. “Congrats, Eli. Mum officially thinks you’re smarter than us.”

“She just finally has seen it,” Eli teased. “I’ve always been smarter than you.” Internally, though, she was still handling it, still processing what had happened. She could go on to all the NEWT classes she wanted—most especially the ones required to be a Healer—which meant she hadn’t ruined her chances at all. A set of six OWLs would give her _serious_ standing in her NEWT classes, and no matter who took over Defense Against the Dark Arts, she was guaranteed a spot. It was as much as she ever could’ve hoped for. After everything that had happened, it was nice to have a little bright spot to focus on.

The first moment she could, Eli wrote Remus to tell him her results, and asked if he might’ve heard who was taking over DADA, though she would’ve preferred him as her teacher. She reflected briefly on how she’d never tell her parents this sort of thing—but then pushed it away as her other family drew her into discussions about what they all needed for school, and Eli hurried to remind Mrs. Weasley that, as always, she’d kept all her old school books, so Ron and Ginny were welcome to use them instead of her spending money on additional copies. She’d gotten into the habit after her first time shopping with the family, when she’d seen Mrs. Weasley scrambling for change to buy the twins’ books. Every year they went through the same process of her wizarding-world-mum trying to turn her down, but finally caving when Eli brought out her pristine, unmarked books.

They went shopping as a group, just before school started up, and Eli let herself get caught up in the present, let herself actually _enjoy_ things, because she knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that the world really was going to get far more dangerous. Who knew when they’d have time like this again? Better to savor it while she could.

\--

Usually Simon and the twins avoided Eli during the first night’s feast, trying to befriend the new Gryffindors and let her find her space with the new Slytherins, but that evening Simon raced across to Eli and crouched behind her, his hazel eyes alight with disgust. “Rosalyn’s coming,” he blurted out, gripping her sleeve. “Apparently a bunch of students from Beauxbatons are coming for some event, some contest, I just heard from McGonagall. So…” Simon screwed his face up in revulsion. “You get to meet my sister.”

“Ew,” Eli piped up, knowing it was what he wanted to hear. Really she was interested, she’d heard so much about Rosalyn over the years but never even seen a picture of the girl, but Simon wouldn’t want to know that.

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, scowling. “She’ll be here for _months_ , I’ll never get away from her!”

She giggled behind her hand, ignoring the way he shot her a withering look. “She can’t be that bad, Simon. Same blood as you, and you turned out all right. Besides, it’s not like you’ll have to see her a lot, you know.”

“Enough,” he argued back. But he left then, hurrying back across the hall and sliding in next to Fred, apparently joining a really passionate discussion, judging by his furious hand-waving. Eli watched for a moment before grinning and turning back to her dinner, thoroughly pleased. She was finally going to get a window into her best friend’s life, after knowing him for all of five years. Excellent.

After dessert, Eli joined the Gryffindor table and leaned amiably against George, her feet hanging into the aisle, while Headmaster Dumbledore explained what Simon had only hinted at—that Hogwarts would be hosting an enormous event, one she had never heard of, called the Triwizard Tournament. Aptly named, it was a contest of skill and smarts between three students of three different schools, each representing their alma mater as a _champion_ and battling it out in a series of magical competitions. It all sounded quite exciting, and Eli was beginning to consider submitting herself for a lark…until she heard how dangerous the event would be, and quite changed her mind...

Dumbledore then announced the two schools whose delegations would be staying with them for the duration of the tournament—Durmstrang, from Scandinavia, and of course Beauxbatons from France.

Even without having seen her before, Eli could spot Rosalyn MacKenzie from a kilometer away. She shared Simon’s dark hair, dusky hazel eyes, and angular jawline, as well as the same honey-kissed skin tone… But Rosalyn was lithe and graceful where Simon was gangly and a bit awkward, moving more like a ballerina than anything else. She pointedly looked away as she passed her brother, simpering a bit at the attention from everyone else, and Eli couldn’t help but see why Simon hated her, really. Rosalyn seemed entirely carried away with herself, even in the way she smoothed her skirt and batted her eyelashes as a Gryffindor boy from the end of the table eyed her.

“So that’s Rosalyn,” George muttered, cocking an eyebrow. “She seems…”

“Awful,” Fred chimed in. “You’re really related to her, Simes?”

Simon scrunched down and pretended not to see his sister. “Unfortunately,” he grumbled under his breath, shooting her looks meant to kill.

Durmstrang came in second, and in moments, the whole hall was filled with eager, excited whispers—for at the back, next to the school’s headmaster, was none other than Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker, the very same one they’d seen at the Quidditch World Cup. Eli bit back the nasty look she wanted to shoot him, as he looked even more carried away than Rosalyn, and besides… Anyone who considered himself too good to walk in with the rest of his schoolmates probably needed to be knocked down a peg or two.

Not that the boys seemed to notice at all. They were just starstruck.

Once their visitors were settled in, with Beauxbatons at the Ravenclaw table and Durmstrang at the Slytherin one—Eli foresaw _many_ meals taken at the Gryffindor table—Headmaster Dumbledore got their attention again and continued where he’d left off. “I would like to say a few words,” he began, a touch sternly. “Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do that, this student must survive three tasks, as I stated before. Three _extremely_ dangerous tasks.”

Eli frowned to herself. This sounded like a warning.

“Wicked,” Fred whispered from across the table, grinning, oblivious to her discomfiture.

“For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all this we have the head of the Department of International Magic Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch.” Dumbledore gestured at a smaller, somewhat anxious man in a bowler hat, who took a place slightly off-center before he began to speak.

“After much deliberation…” God, Eli wondered if he could get through this without his voice cracking. “…the Ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament. This decision is final.”

As he spoke, a chorus of dissent and disagreement rose up—including the twins, who shouted, “That’s rubbish!” as Mr. Crouch stepped away, ignoring the chaos he’d caused.

Eli smacked at Fred’s arm as he waved, but it made no difference. Instead she just sat back, waiting for the inevitable yell from Dumbledore—and once it had come, she straightened up to watch him reveal a beautiful silver-wrought cup, engraved with the word _Triwizard_ across each faceted side. So that’s what the winner got. It was nice enough, she supposed, though maybe not the best consolation prize considering how ostensibly dangerous these tasks were.

When she looked away, she saw the twins bowing their heads together, whispering frantically with their eyes growing more and more alight. “You’re going to try and enter anyway, aren’t you?” she asked dryly.

They both looked up and grinned at her. “It’ll be brilliant,” Fred laughed.”

George nudged her side. “Can you blame us for trying?”

Eli felt a wave of sudden anger crash over her. “Yes,” she snapped. Then she rose to her feet and strode from the hall, ignoring the looks of shock she knew she was getting. It was just…ridiculous. After what had happened at the Cup? They wanted to try not only to defy the Ministry of Magic, but to enter themselves into a highly dangerous tournament? With everything else, this was what they wanted to put their efforts towards? Eli knew it was irrational but she was angry, she was _furious_ they’d take recent events so lightly and just…

She was afraid she’d lose them, that’s what it came down to. The dark thought growing ever since the attack at the Cup was how close she’d come to losing someone—Ron and Hermione had lost track of Harry during the chaos, and all three had nearly gotten hexed for their troubles. Ginny had almost been snatched up by a Death Eater. Mr. Weasley had gone racing into danger, _towards_ the Death Eaters, to protect whomever he could. Any one of them, or the twins, or Simon, could’ve been injured or killed that day. Eli wasn’t prepared to lose someone, and it seemed like every day she was getting closer and closer to just that—losing someone. As of yet it hadn’t happened, but if one of the twins actually got into this contest…

Gritting her teeth against her emotions, Eli ducked outside the castle and made her way up to the owlery, almost regretting it all when the biting autumn cold reached her—she didn’t have a coat or cloak on, as she’d only been at dinner, which meant no protection from the wind that blew endlessly in the owlery. But getting away from everything was worth the cold, in the end, and Eli found solace among the chirping birds, knowing at least they wouldn’t put their lives in danger needlessly.

Someone jogged up the stairs behind her, and Eli turned in time to see George round the corner, grinning at her faintly. “Thought I’d find you here,” he told her. “Come on, Eli, it’s cold up here. Whatever’s going on, we can talk about it where it’s warm, okay?”

She shook her head fiercely. “There’s nothing to talk about.” Eli brushed past him, her jaw quavering as she held in her tears—she only pretended not to see the hurt look on his face. But George didn’t chase her down again, he just let her go… And even though part of her wished he hadn’t, she didn’t show weakness and turn back to him. She just squared her shoulders and went back to the Great Hall, making it in time to show the newest Slytherin first years where they needed to go. Duties first. Crying later.

\--

Going against what Eli considered usual _boy-code_ , Simon sided with her, actually expressed his distaste for the twins’ plans—he refused to assist them in creating a potion to cross Dumbledore’s age line, his protection against inane ideas like this, which Eli was grateful for. Fred had the gall to ask Eli help, though George dragged him away before she could hex him. Instead, Simon and Eli posted up in the hall that held the Goblet of Fire, what the entries were placed inside, among a handful of other students, watching as various seventeen-year-olds entered. Eli noted Cedric Diggory, whom they’d met before the World Cup, putting his name in—which caused a lot of girls to swoon, apparently. Viktor Krum did so as well, and Eli nudged Simon, rolling her eyes. “He’ll be picked,” she told him under her breath. “You know it.”

Simon smirked back. “Probably. D’you think he’s as good a sorcerer as a Seeker?”

“I doubt it.”

Term officially began, with Eli in her brand-new set of NEWT-level classes. She shared less with her friends than usual, but for the moment, she didn’t mind much—except in Herbology and Transfiguration, where she had to suffer only one of the twins at a time. Fred pretended not to see her, while George gave her injured looks the whole time, making Eli nearly mess up her spell to turn a dormouse into a large, ornate mirror.

Defense Against the Dark Arts came, and Eli sat with Simon—apparently someone was still looking after them, keeping class divisions uneven in some subjects just to make their lives easier. Their new teacher was a rather famous Auror, colloquially called Mad-Eye, but apparently would be known as _Professor Moody_ to the students. Eli already missed Remus and the man hadn’t even opened his mouth.

Professor Moody began the class with a rousing discussion on a selection of the curses most commonly used by Death Eaters. Eli felt sick the whole time as she took notes, wondering if this was actually meant to be part of their curriculum or if the Professor was as eccentric as he seemed. As class wore on, hedging into even darker topics, Eli felt a sheet of paper underneath the one she’d been using grow a little hot, just enough to get her attention.

The parchment she’d enchanted.

Eli tried to ignore it, but it kept insisting at her—so finally she pulled it to the top and wrote out the symbol that would open up communication.

George’s slanted scrawl greeted her immediately. _‘You’re still angry with us?’_

She scowled at her desk. _‘Yes, of course I’m still cross. You’re still planning to put your names in.’_

_‘It’s not like we’ll get picked.’_

Eli narrowed her eyes, shot him a disparaging look, and stuffed the parchment away pointedly, not wanting to discuss it any further. This was the longest she’d ever been cross with the twins, and it was wearing on her, true… But she was nothing if not stubborn. She needed an apology before she would give in to anything.

Several days passed before finally, while Eli and Simon were studying among everyone else in the same room as the Goblet, the twins rushed in laughing with delight, earning cheers from the onlookers.

“Thank you, thank you!” George called magnanimously, taking a sweeping bow. “Well, lads, we’ve done it!” He and Fred brandished small vials, both grinning excitedly.

“Cooked it up just this morning,” Fred added.

From a couple rows up, Hermione rolled her eyes and murmured, “It’s not going to work.”

Fred hopped up near her and smirked, clearly amused. “Oh yeah?” he challenged. “And why’s that?”

She flicked her eyes up again and pointed at the glowing, silvery line circling the Goblet. “Don’t you see the age line? Dumbledore drew it himself.”

“So?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione turned up her nose at him. “ _So_ , a sorcerer as powerful as Dumbledore couldn’t possibly be fooled by something so pathetically dimwitted as—what is that, an aging potion? Honestly.”

“That’s why it’s so brilliant,” George snickered.

“Because he’s so pathetically dimwitted,” Fred finished with a broad grin.

The twins stepped up beside the age line and downed their potions quickly. Eli winced, noticing the slightly off color of it, realizing in seconds it wouldn’t work. Even if it were properly brewed she didn’t figure it would actually fool the age line, they were created to prevent silly things like this, but with it being improperly brewed… She ran through the ingredients mentally, but nothing dangerous was included, thankfully. The worst that might happen was the two being forcibly booted out, she guessed.

With matching excited grins, the twins leapt across the age line, hesitating a moment before the crowd of students cheered, apparently thinking that it had worked.

One after another, they put their names in, and Eli clenched her jaw, utterly distraught and angry with them for making this ridiculously stupid decision. And for a moment, everything seemed to have worked, making her feel sick with worry-

But then fire leapt up from the Goblet, and their entries burst forth, slamming into the twins’ chests and sending them flying out of the age line. Eli grabbed onto Simon’s arm in fear, biting her lip to keep back a scream—but the twins were okay, proven when they leapt at each other in anger…both sporting brand-new grey hair and full beards.

“You said-”

“You said-”

Eli dropped her head into her hands, feeling Simon touch her back comfortingly—she was partly embarrassed for them, and honestly still calming down from the scare. It was a moment of exactly what she dreaded…something happening to the people she cared about. She’d _seen_ it. She’d had to face that and it had sent her spiraling into a mess of sadness and fear and anger, all wrapped up with how badly she missed them… God. Eli was going to punch someone in the face for this mess.

\--

_Okay, deep breath… You can do this, Eli. Don’t be a wimp._

Eli sighed and raked her fingers through her blonde curls, wincing as she caught a tangle and yanked past it. The twins had ended up in the hospital wing after their little stunt, naturally, and Simon had already been by to see them and reconcile—something she was avoiding. But no longer. She missed them far too much and was too worried to stay away, so there she was, standing outside the hospital wing, trying to work up the courage to go in.

Finally she grew exhausted of herself and stepped in. Madame Pomfrey wasn’t out and about, likely in her office, but the twins were both up, in adjacent beds, talking amongst themselves—their grey beards were gone entirely, and though their hair was still streaked with a little grey, they were largely back to normal. As she entered, they both looked up, seeming a bit…chagrinned, which was good, in her opinion.

“Well, you were right,” George admitted.

Fred nodded sagely. “That was a stupid idea.”

Eli crossed her arms. “You could’ve been hurt,” she told them accusingly, trying to stay angry—but seeing them look so sheepish and exhausted was breaking her down, really.

“Terrible idea, really,” Fred conceded, grinning.

She sighed and dropped down on George’s bed, relenting and smiling in return. “You’re going to be so _ugly_ when you’re old, you know that?” she teased, giggling when they both looked affronted.

“We’ll be dashingly handsome, I’ll have you know,” George argued back.

“Just keep telling yourself that,” she sneered, though it was all in fun. Eli wasn’t big on apologies, at least, not giving them, and she didn’t think it was all that fair to force them to say the words when clearly they were regretful, so she just let it go, instead falling into discussion about how poorly they’d brewed the potion, and how much better it would’ve gone if she’d done it.

Eventually Fred fell asleep, and Eli tried to nudge him awake—to no avail, though. She sighed and shrugged at George, leaning back against his legs. “Well, he’s out,” she snickered. “I should probably be getting back anyway, it’s late…”

George caught her arm, though. “I—I’m sorry, Eli,” he murmured, giving her a sad half-smile. “I know you were just worrying after us.”

She felt her cheeks growing red and tried to tamp it down, not wanting to show that particular emotion. “It’s just…after everything that’s happened… I don’t understand wanting to put yourself in danger, that’s all.”

He nodded. “You’re right. It was stupid and I didn’t… I didn’t think you could be upset by it.” George smirked and released her, though where his hand touched stayed warm anyway. “Anyway, it was more about rebelling against the Ministry’s bloody rule. Sixteen should be old enough.”

“To risk your life?” she pointed out, frowning.

“It’s only one year’s difference. Some sixth years are even seventeen already anyway, and I mean…” His voice grew serious. “If what we talked about is true… They might as well go ahead and be adults now, before things get bad.”

Eli was taken aback by the harshness—yet even as she recoiled a little, she understood where he was coming from. The world was growing darker by the day, and soon enough even underage wizards and witches might be in situations far greater than their ages. What was a single year against everything that could be coming? Still, though… “Where does it stop, then? Sixteen is only a year apart, and then fifteen is only a year from sixteen… Whatever else is going on, maybe kids should just…be kids, as long as possible.”

Raising one eyebrow, George asked, “Even us?”

That made her look away. “No.” Eli tucked her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, staring off across the room. “I think we all have seen far too much at this point to pretend we’re kids anymore.”

Looking very world-weary, George sat up and put his arms around her, leaning his head against her shoulder and sighing deeply. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to say anything. Eli understood. They were just holding on through the storm, finding a way to make it through whatever was coming…because how else could they handle it? Alone? She knew that was a joke. There’d be no getting through it alone. She needed her friends, her _family_ with her, or she’d never see the other side.


	10. Champions, Dancing, and One Poor Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back! I wanted to say thank you SO much to the people who have reviewed and left kudos so far, it means the absolute world to me, it really does. I was really nervous about posting this so hearing the positive feedback is incredible!!! I love you all!

Over the next few days, life returned to a semblance of normalcy. In an attempt to make nice with the twins, Eli helped them with some recipes for the joke shop they wanted to open—a secret she was keeping from Mrs. Weasley, who wouldn’t have approved. But that was the twins’ dream, apparently, and far be it from her to shoot it down. Every once in a while she’d acquiesce to their begging and help them out, _only_ with the written part, not the practical application. Plausible deniability.

Thursday, they were released early from classes to attend the selection of each school’s champion in the Great Hall. Eli sat with the boys for it, as she had been for every meal since the students of Durmstrang had taken up residence at her own house’s table—and she had _no_ interest in fraternizing with them. The whole event would’ve been so much more horrifying for Eli, had the twins’ names actually been in the Goblet… But since they were both safe, she could sit easily, arm twined with George’s, and enjoy the air of excitement filling the hall. She leaned across George and prodded Fred’s shoulder. “Bet you a galleon it’ll pick Krum,” she whispered.

He grinned widely. “Make it two.”

“Deal.”

Simon rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Unbelievable.”

Headmaster Dumbledore called for quiet, taking the head of the room to call the names forth. Eli swung her legs round to see better, her back leaned into the table, and watched as the Goblet sputtered and flared, finally expelling its first name.

“The Durmstrang champion is…Viktor Krum!”

Eli grinned and drove her fingers into Fred’s side. “You owe me two galleons.”

He batted her hand away as the next name flew out, swirling around in midair for a moment before fluttering into Dumbledore’s hand. “And the champion from Beauxbatons…”

Simon leaned in with a deep scowl. “It better not be Rosalyn… She hasn’t even spoken to me, did you know that? But I saw her put her name in. She just wants the attention.”

“…Fleur Delacour!”

“Yes!” Simon crowed, sneering across at Rosalyn, who, though she was studiously ignoring her brother, looked _thoroughly_ put out.

From the Ravenclaw table, a tall, slender blonde stood up, blushing a perfect shade of poppy pink and waving to her friends as she glided away, more Veela than human, and Eli touched a hand to her own hair—this Fleur girl’s hair was almost silvery, a bit iridescent in the candlelight, while her own felt sort of…lank and dull in comparison. Usually Eli didn’t care about her appearances, but there was something about coming up against a person like _that_ which just…made her feel inadequate.

George’s hand appeared out of seemingly nowhere, brushing her hair off her shoulder as he smiled knowingly. “You have nothing to worry about,” he reassured her.

Eli pinched her arm inside her robes to keep from blushing.

A third slip of paper shot out, making a few easy loops before drifting into Dumbledore’s hand. He looked particularly excited as he read it. “The Hogwarts champion…is Cedric Diggory!”

Oh! The one who’d shared a portkey with the Weasleys on the way to the Cup. Eli didn’t know anything about him, except that girls seemed to swoon over him when he walked through the corridor, but he’d been nice enough that day. Naturally, she’d root for him, school pride and all that. Hopefully he’d do well. It felt a bit slanted that only one girl made it in, for plenty of seventh-year girls had put their names into the Goblet, but she supposed it had its reasons.

Over the din of excitement, Dumbledore called out, “Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end, only one will go down in history, only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory—the Triwizard Cup!”

“Eli, look at that,” George muttered, nudging her arm and tipping his head towards the Goblet.

Sure enough, it was flickering again, red flames turning blue just as they had when it prepared to select a champion… But they’d all been picked. So what was it doing?

Suddenly, a fourth slip of paper flew out, making one single, purposeful loop before landing firmly in Dumbledore’s outstretched hand. He murmured a name, confused, too quiet for anyone to hear—but then he repeated it, louder, into the stunned silence that had overtaken the hall. “Harry Potter.”

Not him again! Eli glanced over at the poor boy, who had gone ashen at this turn of events. Really, he seemed to have a terrible lot in life.

When Dumbledore yelled the kid’s name, Hermione shoved him to his feet and he began making his slow, awkward way to the front of the hall. As he walked, shouts rose up—mostly about his age, about him tricking the Goblet somehow, but Eli didn’t buy it. If _she_ was affected by how much had gone on recently…she could only imagine how he must feel. No, a kid who had been through such a bad experience that the Dementors would cling to him like they had the year before would never put himself up to a competition like this. He’d prefer to have a jolly time watching it from the sidelines, but he wouldn’t choose it. She was certain.

If only everyone else felt that way.

The Great Hall emptied in a slow, reluctant trickle, even with teachers scowling down their backs. No one wanted to leave—they wanted to see the show, wanted to hear what punishment would crash down on Harry Potter’s head for defying the Ministry. The twins told off anyone who talked poorly about him too close to them, while Simon looked thoughtful, his gaze on his shoes. Eli just kept her mouth shut. She hardly knew the kid, only felt some kinship with him from being affected by the Dementors as well, so it didn’t quite feel like her place to make a big fuss about it. She did, however, hex Draco Malfoy so his hair would turn red the next time he washed it. He had it coming, though, shoving past her while talking about how much he wished Harry would die in the tournament.

“Simon!” an accented voice trilled, and Eli stumbled aside as Rosalyn MacKenzie rushed in and caught Simon in a big, exaggerated hug, which he fought every step of the way.

“Get off me,” Simon grumbled. “You didn’t miss me, Rosalyn, you’re just looking for sympathy.”

Rosalyn tossed her perfectly-curled hair. “Hmph. I’m not allowed to miss my little brother after not seeing him for over a year?” she asked, crossing her arms. Though she’d been born in England, just like her brother, she had apparently picked up a slight French accent from spending all her time in France. That, or she’d affected it just to seem more exotic or something equally daft.

“Sod off, Rose,” he grumbled in return. “You’ve never missed me. What do you want?”

A wry smile crept over her lips. Immediately, Eli marked her as a poor liar. “I want you to introduce me to Cedric Diggory.”

Simon’s jaw dropped. “I’m not even friends with him! And I’m _not_ introducing you to anyone. Just go…toss your hair at him or something, flutter your eyelashes, whatever. I don’t care! Just leave me out of it.”

“You have no idea how girls flirt, do you?” Eli asked him dryly.

He elbowed her sharply, but didn’t stop giving his sister a frustrated look. “Blimey, Rose, do you have anything else in your head?”

“Like you’d have any idea what goes on in my head,” Rosalyn sneered, looking down her nose at him. “Well, if you won’t help me, I’ll have to do it myself.” She curled a strand of hair around her finger and looked behind her, clearly searching for her prey. “See you around!” Before Simon could dodge it, she leaned in and kissed the top of his head, before flouncing off into the crowd.

Fred was the first one to react, bursting out into peals of laughter. “Bloody hell, Simes! Your sister’s _awful_. How are you even related to her?”

“I wish I weren’t, most of the time,” Simon growled, still glaring off towards where Rosalyn had disappeared. “She didn’t used to be like this, but once she was a teenager she just became unbearable. Most girls do, at that age.”

“Oi!” Eli punched his shoulder. “Most girls become unbearable as teenagers?”

Rubbing his arm, Simon protested, “Well, not you, Eli. You’re different. Just—girls like _Rosalyn_.”

It was a harmless comment, but Eli felt a little sting in her chest all the same. She’d been friends almost exclusively with boys ever since she’d come to Hogwarts, and while it didn’t bother her—Simon was right, plenty of girls her age were catty and completely insufferable—she did wonder if it had affected _her_ , made her…less desirable somehow. Most girls had at least been kissed, or had a ‘boyfriend’ by sixteen, while no one had even expressed interest in Eli. Not even once. She did have to wonder if it was because she didn’t curl her hair like Rosalyn—well, her hair was curly already, though not in such a sleek way—or because she didn’t have time for makeup, or quite simply because she was a friend instead of a possible romantic interest. If she were more like Rosalyn, or Fleur Delacour, maybe she’d have even _one_ person interested in her, instead of a resounding none.

Yet Eli just didn’t have the mental space for such things. She was far too focused on schoolwork, and her career path to bother testing the theory out. No, she’d settle for being a friend. Kissing was probably overrated anyway, right?

\--

“He did _what_?!” Eli was almost doubled over laughing, sitting perched just a little too high in a tree while Simon recounted what he’d seen earlier that day.

“He Transfigured him into a ferret, I swear!” The dark-haired boy’s cheeks were flushed from how hard he’d been laughing. “And he bounced him all around, just flung him, the ferret was squeaking _so_ high—I bet that’s Malfoy screaming bloody murder!—and he was even holding his mouth like a ferret’s when McGonagall brought him back!”

Eli pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the burst of giggles that wanted to come out, while the twins made no such attempt. “I can’t believe it,” she snickered instead. “Moody seems like such a…hard-arse, honestly, but that’s a _brilliant_ move. What did he say to McGonagall again?”

Making a ridiculous face, squinting one eye smaller than the other, Simon growled out in a rather good impression of their DADA professor, “ _Teaching_.”

The twins practically fell over cackling, Simon’s depiction of the incident more than enough to get them going. “I take back everything I’ve said,” Fred snorted, wiping at his eyes. “Moody’s a genius. A bloody mad genius.”

“Just don’t get on his bad side!” George added gleefully.

Though Eli still wasn’t convinced by his teaching methods, she had to admit—anyone who turned Malfoy into a ferret could stick around even with questionable curriculum. It was wrong, naturally, but this was the girl who had been hexing her peers since she’d come to the school, just for treating her a little poorly. She had no ground to stand on regarding inappropriate retaliation, considering she’d made quite a reputation for herself in the same vein.

As they settled down, Eli swung her legs a little too close to the twins’ heads, getting their attention. “So, the first task is in just a few days,” she pointed out. “Heard anything about it?”

They glanced at each other, a bit shamefully. “No,” Fred denied.

“Haven’t heard a thing,” George added on innocently.

“Ah.” Eli smirked—even five years with a Slytherin hadn’t taught them to lie to her. She could still spot it a mile away. “You do know, then.”

Simon looked put out. “Well, go on, tell us!” he demanded.

The twins exchanged a pointed look, obviously communicating in subtle body language and silent understanding, something Eli had never quite gotten the hang of, before George sighed and relented. “All right, fine. So you remember our brother Charlie, right?”

“He’s in Romania now, isn’t he?” Eli asked. “Working with dragons?” As she spoke, her heart went right to her shoes. “No. Oh, come on now, don’t tell me it’s bloody dragons.”

“It’s bloody dragons,” Fred confirmed, grinning. “He couldn’t tell us the specifics, but they brought over four dragons.”

“One for each of the contestants,” George interjected.

“So it’s something to do with them. They’re all females, all full-size, and honestly, from what he said, they’re all nasty pieces of work.”

Eli passed a hand over her face. “So they’ve got to battle dragons?! That hardly seems fair, even for a wizard who’s come of age. Dragons are _hard_ to work with, they’re even harder to actually fight. And these ones will be in an unfamiliar environment, they’ve just traveled… So they’ll be angry to boot. How is that even safe?!”

“Dunno,” George admitted. “Charlie swore it’d be fine, they’ve got handlers on-site to step in if things get too bad, but they can’t interfere until it looks, well…dire. Guess we’ll see then, we’re all supposed to watch it.”

She grimaced, mostly to herself. Dragons. The three main contestants were only a year her senior, hardly a difference that mattered—she _did_ agree with George on that front—but Harry was two years her junior. Just a child. She couldn’t imagine taking on a bloody dragon in her fourth year, not even in her sixth, maybe not ever! Dragons. _Dragons_! This tournament was already turning into a complete farce and it had scarcely begun.

Bright and early on November 24th, Eli joined up with the boys and headed down to the stadium that had been built up specifically for the task, her whole body alight with nerves—and a secret excitement to see real live dragons, up close. As a child, she’d been raised to think dragons were only a myth, something ancient humans had thought up to explain their livestock vanishing, but the wizarding world had proved that quite wrong. Dragons were alive and absolutely real, if endangered, and their blood was used in certain potions, even. Professor Snape had a small store of dragon scales for particularly rare potions, though she’d never gotten to touch those. Not yet, at least.

“You know, a wooden stadium is probably a bad idea,” Simon murmured, leaning across Fred to keep the conversation private.

Eli wrinkled her nose. “Don’t remind me. Fire has a certain affinity towards me, in case you’ve forgotten.” She’d never thought it would be, but it was actually much easier having the boys know about her problems with fire—even for simple things like making comments about it.

“Oh, we’d never forget that,” George snickered.

She swatted at his arm, only lightly, and was going to reply—when a cannon went off and she flinched, pressing into George as a lightning bolt of fear coursed through her. But it was only the start of the first task, and Eli felt her cheeks warming as she leaned away from him, noting the faint smirk on his face. A cheer erupted as Cedric Diggory stepped out onto the field, looking wary but still confident.

For a moment, everything was still—then Cedric leapt off the rock he’d been standing on scarcely a half-second after a dragon rose up from behind another rock, fire curling from its mouth as it eyed the Hufflepuff, its body unraveling to reveal a golden egg, glittering even with clouds covering the sky. So the dragon had been protecting it, Eli realized, considering the situation. The champions must have to get it somehow, past the dragon chained so conveniently nearby. When the twins had admitted it was dragons, she’d never imagined anything like this… Sure, it was chained, but that didn’t mean Cedric couldn’t die here…

Eli reached over and threaded her fingers between George’s, holding on for comfort. It could’ve been them, in another world. It could’ve been one of her family out there facing the dragon, with their life in danger…

His hand tightened on hers, ever so slightly but enough to let her know he understood.

Naturally, Cedric did excellently. As did Krum and Delacour, to Eli’s disappointment. She didn’t want them to get hurt, but she would’ve liked to see them struggle a little more. Really, though, she wanted to see Harry succeed. He was the only one she knew at all, though she didn’t know him well, but with that kid’s history he deserved the win, she figured.

The stadium was quiet when Harry stepped out, as most of the school had turned on him, thinking he’d somehow tricked the age line. Eli rose up as far as she dared, looking for the dragon. He had what the twins said was the worst one, the Hungarian Horntail, either bad luck or a devised challenge. But either way, he was in for a rough run, that much was obvious.

It took a bit longer than with the others, as the Horntail waited and let her prey get closer, but finally she leapt out, snarling and spitting fire at Harry and forcing him to roll out of the way. Eli gripped tighter to George’s hand, and craned her neck to try and see better. The Horntail was on him, breathing fire at every rock he tried to hide behind and straining at her collar as she protected her egg, _so_ much more aggressive than the others had been. “This isn’t fair,” she whispered, to no one in particular. “That thing wants to eat him alive.”

“Yeah, I’d hate to be in his shoes,” Fred agreed dismally. “Though…being the dragon might be nice.”

Simon gave him an incredulous look and prodded his side, hard, but Fred just grinned through it. His grin was wiped off soon enough when Hermione shouted something down to Harry, just as the Horntail made another lunge for him, sending him tumbling painfully down to another rock.

Another few harrowing minutes went by, before Eli heard a whistling sound in the distance—like something flying through the air. Slowly the whole crowd heard it too, turning in their seats and searching for the source, until finally something went shooting into the arena, right towards Harry. His broomstick! Of course! Eli cheered just a split second before everyone else, but they caught on fast when he leapt right onto the broom as it flew past, narrowly avoiding being fried by the dragon.

“Now this is more like it,” Eli laughed, and grinned as Harry made a big loop, trying to draw the Horntail away from the egg. “He’s an amazing flier, he’ll…”

“Bloody hell,” George breathed out.

The Horntail was beginning to break its restraints. Eli rose up in her seat and screamed for someone to do _something_ , but to no avail—as Harry made another pass, the Horntail tore free of her chain and rose into the air, smoke dripping from her mouth as she went straight for Harry, chasing him away from the stadium and off towards the castle, out of sight in moments.

A flurry of activity burst from the teachers’ section. The Headmaster ordered everyone to stay in their seats, while he and Mr. Crouch hurried to examine exactly how the Horntail had escaped. From a nearby tent, Charlie Weasley raced out, face tight with panic as he met the two, gesturing wildly towards where Harry and the dragon had vanished. Eli thought her heart might beat right out of her chest.

“Why don’t they stop it?” Simon asked anxiously.

“They can’t,” Hermione told them, leaning up from her seat a couple rows down. “They’re not allowed to interfere in the tasks unless someone’s life is in serious danger… And they can’t tell if Harry’s is or not, since they’re too far away.”

Eli crossed her arms. “That’s ridiculous, he’s underage, they can’t be expected to just sit there!” Yet that was exactly what they were doing—having determined the dragon was apparently just stronger than expected, the people _supposedly_ in charge of things were just…waiting. God, you’d think they didn’t care! If it were up to her, she’d hang the rules and go after him, rather than sit and potentially let a fourteen-year-old die.

From the distance, a roar echoed into the stadium, and Eli closed her eyes tight. _Please, just let that be the dragon, don’t let it be him…_

“Eli, look!” George shook her arm until she opened her eyes, scanning the air until finally she spotted Harry Potter on his broomstick, flying back into the stadium at full-speed, no dragon in sight.

The stadium erupted into fierce, desperately happy cheering, students from almost every house leaping to their feet in elation. Eli grinned and rushed to her feet too, clapping until her hands hurt. Thank god. Somehow he’d done it, he’d avoided the Horntail, a miracle in and of itself—and now the first task was done, they’d have a reprieve and a chance to catch their breath. And maybe, just maybe, the officials would rethink Harry’s participation in the Triwizard Tournament, after he’d been chased off the field by a rampant dragon. Yet somehow, she didn’t have much hope for that.

\--

The twins snuck Eli into the Gryffindor common room that evening, nicking Simon’s scarf and wrapping it so it covered the Slytherin crest sewn into her robes, so she could join in the fun as everyone celebrated Harry’s victory.

Somehow, among the partying, the twins had swept Harry up onto their shoulders and begun parading him round the room while he held the golden egg aloft, practically sending the Gryffindors into a frenzy. “We knew you wouldn’t die, Harry,” George teased, grinning.

“Lose a leg-”

“Or an arm-”

“Pack it in all together?” Fred smirked as Harry laughed, clearly enjoying the whole event.

“Never!” the twins finished together, drawing another chorus of cheering from the common room. Eli stood near the wall with Simon, giggling to herself and trying not to be too conspicuous. If she were caught, the worst thing she’d get was detention—the boys might get in more serious trouble for sneaking someone from a different house into the Gryffindor tower, especially someone from _Slytherin_. Mortal enemies and all that.

From the midst of the throng, a dark-haired Irish boy yelled out, “Go on, Harry! What’s the clue?”

Visibly enjoying his moment in the spotlight, Harry asked the room. “Who wants me to open it?” They all screamed out a positive, albeit a loud one. “You want me to open it?!”

When the room cheered again, he acquiesced, twisting the top of the golden egg and letting it split open into four sections, surrounding a central glowing part, swirling almost like light filtering through water, something altogether beautiful and yet a bit sinister, in Eli’s opinion.

Then it began to shriek.

The twins actually dropped Harry in their haste to cover their ears, taking the brunt of the awful sound as they were right next to the egg. Even as far as she was, Eli could hardly bear it—the sound was like knives against her eardrums, making her head ring and her vision blur with the sheer force of it. She pressed her hands to her ears desperately, but it hardly made a difference. Quick as he could, Harry closed the egg up, allowing blissful silence to take over.

In the quiet, a voice blurted out, “What the bloody hell was that?”

Ron stood in the doorway leading to the dormitories, looking confused and a bit uncomfortable, mirroring the discomfiture on Harry’s face.

Fred grimaced and waved at the Gryffindors milling around, hovering like fruit flies. “All right, everyone,” he dismissed with a flick of his fingers. “Go back to your knitting. This is gonna be uncomfortable enough without all you nosey sods listening in.” He and George crossed to where Eli and Simon stood, giving the other two some privacy.

“What’s the story there?” Eli asked curiously, gesturing with a tilt of her head.

“Ron’s been off his head convinced that Harry put his own name in,” George explained dryly. “They’ve been fighting like prissy little girls.”

Eli rolled her eyes, giving Ron a sideways look that he thankfully missed. “Well, that’s mental,” she grumbled. “Poor kid’s been through enough, as if he’d ever put himself in that position. He looked terrified earlier. That’s not someone who chose to participate.” Glancing over again, she noticed the two seemed to be…well…not arguing, at the very least. Hopefully they’d put it behind them and it wouldn’t cause further strain. Satisfied with that whole mess, she peered outside, trying to see the moon—but it wasn’t visible from that angle. Still… “I ought to be getting to my own dormitory,” Eli sighed reluctantly, unwinding her borrowed scarf and tossing it to Simon. “It’s pretty late.” More than anything she would’ve liked to stay there, talking to the boys until the sun came up, but they had classes in the morning and besides, she’d get into dreadful trouble for it.

George tossed his head towards the door. “I’ll walk you halfway. You never know who’s about this late.”

“You think I can’t handle myself?” Eli asked, snorting.

He draped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her in with a laugh. “You? I’m more worried about what you’ll do to the other person, honestly.”

“Well…” She had to grin at that. “You have a point. Fine.” With a cheery goodnight to Fred and Simon, Eli headed out the portrait hole with George at her heels, taking a quick right turn and sliding down the bannister out of habit, just a silly thing she’d picked up as a second-year, when no teachers were around.

“One of these days you’ll fall when you do that,” George muttered, shaking his head.

Eli smirked at his distaste. “Hasn’t happened yet.” She fell into step beside him regardless, nipping the urge in the bud when it came back up—adrenaline just made it seem _so_ much more fun than it usually was. “You didn’t need to walk me back, you know,” she pointed out, taking a few steps backwards to give him a stern look. “I’m a Prefect, I can just hand out detentions instead of hexes.”

“Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you,” George suggested loftily.

She couldn’t help the burst of laughter that flew out from that comment. “Oh, yes, because we _never_ see each other,” Eli teased, shaking her head. “Honestly. I don’t mind the company, though.” The halls were conspicuously deserted, though it didn’t seem all that late. “Is it past curfew? Usually we’d see plenty of people.”

George drew a touch closer and shrugged. “It’s still an hour till. Maybe they’re off celebrating,” he suggested.

“More like plotting ways to discredit Harry,” she snorted, shaking her head. “Shame, though. You don’t get to see me hex anyone. Or flash the badge, you know, power and importance and all that.” She chanced a look at him, pleased when he grinned at her joke.

“You, abuse power?” he asked, feigning shock. “You’d never.”

Eli laughed and bumped him playfully. “I’d never get caught, you mean.”

Just outside the library they reached the approximate halfway point, and Eli paused, spinning so she was standing almost toe to toe with him, though her nose would touch his chest if she leaned in. He had a good foot on her, she figured, having shot up over the past couple years. “Your head’ll hit the ceiling if you get any taller, you know,” she snickered.

George grinned and loomed over her, his shoulders bending until he was nearly brushing her nose with his own. “And if you get any shorter, you won’t be able to open doors.”

“Ugh. At least I’m not going to be mistaken for a tree.”

“No, more like a bush.”

Eli lifted up onto her toes, inadvertently bringing herself closer to him—then she backed down immediately, realizing what that could look like, as if she were leaning in to… _Stop it, Eli. That’s preposterous._

“Well, this is where I’d better head off,” she said just a bit too loudly, trying to regain a little control. “Halfway, you know. And if you get caught skulking around by the Slytherin dormitories, you’ll be in serious trouble.”

George smiled almost knowingly. “It’d be worth it.”

Well, she had no idea what to make of that, so Eli just swatted his arm and crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him. “Oh, hush. Really, I’ll be fine the rest of the way. On my honor, I promise not to hex anyone, unless they try to hex me first. Okay?” It was the most she could offer, really. She’d never swear not to defend herself.

“Fine,” he sighed, relenting. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Eli.” George leaned in and caught her in a hug before she could dodge it, even playfully, his arms coming around her warm and firm, and Eli’s breath stuck in her throat as she felt his chest against hers, felt his heartbeat pounding maybe a little too fast, felt his breath rushing past her ear… What was _happening_ to her? She’d never gotten so…unraveled because of anyone, and bloody hell, she was a Slytherin, she was a strong person, nobody could undo her like that, not if she had any say in it!

Yet there she was, fingers twined into his robes, her chest aching at the idea of letting go, her face hot and flushed from the much-too-lingering embrace. So Eli forced herself to release him, pretended not to see the sheepish smile on his face, pretended she wasn’t red as a cherry, and managed a friendly, “Goodnight!”

Of course, the kiss she popped onto her toes to press against his cheek wasn’t exactly friendly, but she’d keep that little tidbit to herself.

\--

A ball. A bloody ball! On Christmas, no less, ensuring anyone who wanted to participate would remain at the school. That meant dance lessons, something Eli already hated the sound of, but honestly, she was more concerned with what happened _during_ these lessons than she was with the dancing itself.

Eli practically stormed out of Slytherin house’s first dance lesson, fuming, fingertips glowing faintly as she hurried to find Simon or one of the twins before something bad happened. She’d been forced to partner with a handful of different Slytherin boys, and the last one, well… The last one had overstepped his bounds, to say the least. Handing down a detention—one Professor Snape backed up with a month’s worth in his own form of punishment—was hardly enough to satisfy the flurry of emotions roiling in her chest.

As luck would have it, she rounded a corner and practically rammed into Simon’s chest, startling him. “Eli! Why do you look ready to knock someone’s lights out?”

“Because I am,” she breathed. If she tried to speak full voice, it’d be shrill and she didn’t want that. Chest heaving, she raised her hands and briefly displayed her hands for him, before stuffing them back in her robes. The soft glow had grown into a warm, red-orange flicker, which meant flames were on their way, if she didn’t calm down somehow. “I need help, Simon.” It cost her a good chunk of pride to admit that, but there was no way around it, no other choice. She _needed_ help.

Simon’s eyes shot wide. “Shit.” He caught her wrist, fearlessly, and dragged her down the hall behind him, clearly searching something out. Eli just went with him, too focused on trying to keep herself from blasting fire everywhere to worry about where they were going.

Finally he pulled her outside the castle, off the small bridge leading towards the greenhouses, and tucked her into the stone alcove below. “Stay here,” Simon told her firmly. “I’m gonna find Fred and George, okay? You won’t be bothered down here, just hang on until we can get you further out.” It wasn’t a bad idea, but as he ran off, Eli sank to the stone beneath her feet and curled her knees to her chest, afraid to be left alone. After what had happened… But granted, Simon didn’t know what this was all about, he didn’t know why she was upset, he just knew she was about to burst into flames…again…

Footsteps rumbled above her, and moments later, George slid down beside the alcove, looking dreadfully worried. “There you are!” He stepped forward and went to embrace her, almost instinctively.

But Eli pulled back. “I’m… I can’t,” she murmured, holding her hands up. “You really don’t want to get burned, you’ll-” She felt her whole body go rigid with shock as he strode to her and wrapped her in his arms anyway, holding her close into his chest. “C’mon, like you’d burn me,” he told her, laughing softly. “You’re safe like this.”

Eli wanted to yank away, but she couldn’t quite find it in herself. And for the moment, the flickering in her fingers had stilled, so…perhaps there was something to that idea.

“What happened?” he asked tentatively, leaning back just far enough to see her face.

She averted her eyes. “Nothing.”

George snorted at that comment. “You’re a better liar than that, Eli. What happened, really?”

Honestly, she was going to tell him, but Simon and Fred slid down to join them and George pulled away from her before they saw, driving anxiety right back into her heart. Her fingertips began to flicker again almost immediately. Eli chose not to read into that too much, instead turning and giving a weary look at the others. “I didn’t want to drag you all out, it’s just…” She displayed her fingers for them, noting the glow was creeping up her wrists. Not good.

“Why’s it happening now?” Simon asked worriedly. “Doesn’t something usually trigger it?”

Eli crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Usually.”

George opened his mouth to argue, looking cross, but Simon cut him off. “It doesn’t matter, does it? We need to get down to the lake. Right Eli?”

“I—that’s probably best,” she agreed. If nothing else it would help her peace of mind, and with her hands beginning to tremble, she was ready to try anything. Heat was crawling up her arms steadily as the reality of what had happened began to set in and eat away at her.

“I’ll take her,” George volunteered.

His twin raised an eyebrow. “Just you?”

“If we all disappear someone’s going to get suspicious,” he explained, shrugging easily. “If you two stick around, they won’t ask questions, and nobody’ll know which one of us you are anyway. That way we’re covered.”

Simon nodded reluctantly. “That’s probably right…” He reached out and squeezed Eli’s shoulder, looking like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. “Stay safe,” he murmured. Then he and Fred climbed back up to the bridge, talking lowly as they headed back inside. Eli heard enough, though—they were worrying about keeping people away from her. And she knew it was protective, of course she did…but it stung all the same.

“Come on,” George urged, putting his arm around her shoulders and beginning the relatively short walk down to the lake. She expected him to immediately ask her about what had happened again, but he didn’t, mercifully. It gave her a little time to try and work out what she actually wanted to say, how much she was willing to tell—very little—and just generally prepare for being interrogated again.

Preemptively, Eli muttered, “Look, I know you’re going to ask me, but I just don’t want to-”

“Are you okay?”

She peered at him, suspicious. Usually he wouldn’t let up, no matter how much walled herself off, no matter how hard she tried to hold him off. “You’re…not asking me what happened?”

George quirked an eyebrow. “Would you tell me right now?” He sat down beside the lake and patted the spot beside him, smiling when she settled down there and curled her knees to her chest. “Eli…” His voice wavered a little and he broke off, staring out over the lake for a moment, maybe piecing his thoughts together or deciding whether he wanted to say anything, she didn’t know, but she knew better than to interrupt either way. After a few moments, he finally sighed and spoke again, his voice quiet and serious. “I don’t understand you, Eli. I never have, really. Sometimes you’re completely open and sometimes you might as well be a brick wall for how much you give away. But this…” He gestured to her hands, which were still warm and glowing. “I know this only happens when you’re _really_ upset. And I’ve only seen that happen a few times in the, what, five years we’ve known each other? So I’m asking you as a friend, as someone who really cares about you… Tell me what happened. Please.”

Eli stared at her hands, completely uncertain. In the aftermath, she felt almost embarrassed, ashamed that she’d let something like that happen—and even more ashamed that it upset her so badly. More than anything she wanted to keep it inside, to brush it off and deny it, go back to living in a world where nobody knew anything bad had gone on… But instead she found her mouth falling open, the story spilling out against her will. “It was stupid,” she blurted, shutting her eyes tight. “We were just practicing for the ball, pairing up with whoever happened to be closest, it wasn’t anything… But… My—partner was a complete arse, apparently. He…he…” Eli’s voice cracked and she swallowed hard to move past it. “He tried to kiss me.” She spat the words out, feeling the tingling in her fingers spike as she recalled the moment. “Grabbed me and pulled me in, and I didn’t… I didn’t do _anything_ , George. I didn’t slap him or hit him or hex him or anything, I fucking froze up like an idiot! That isn’t me, I’m better than that, but I didn’t…” Eli broke off and shoved to her knees, pressed her hands into the soft earth where the lake gently rolled up to the shore, and let the cool water soothe where fire wanted to burst forth.

“That doesn’t mean you failed.” George’s voice was firm, but the hand he smoothed across her back was gentle and comforting. “Bloody hell, Eli, who would know what to do there? And anyway, what did you do after?”

She breathed out slowly as she tried to remember exactly how it had happened. “I—I pushed him away before he… Then I gave him a detention, I think I screamed it at him, and Professor Snape set him a month’s worth to back it up… And I just got out of there, honestly, I couldn’t stay.” Eli drew her hands from the water, curling them into her chest heedless of the fact that she was getting water all over her robes.

George scowled deeply. “Who was it?”

“No, I’m not telling you that, you’re just gonna go after him,” she denied firmly. “I don’t want to make this a big deal, George, I just want to forget about it.”

He crossed his arms, giving her a sharp look. “Eli.”

“It was just—Henry Carter,” she sighed. “Nobody. I’d hardly spoken to him before this, I don’t know why he tried to do that… Just messing with me, honestly.” Eli figured she might as well say all of it, now that it was out in the open. “He told me nobody would want to go to the ball with me and I might as well take it since it was all I’d ever get.”

“ _What_?!” She’d never heard him sound so furious. “That piece of filth, I’ll-”

Eli jumped to her feet as he did, catching George’s arm and holding on firmly. “You won’t do anything,” she scolded him. “It doesn’t matter, he didn’t do anything, and I’m not going to let you make a big deal out of it.”

“But it is a big deal,” he argued fiercely. “What happened to hexing people who so much as looked at you the wrong way?”

She rolled her eyes. “Who says I won’t do something? But I don’t want anyone knowing, I don’t want the questions, okay? I don’t need the attention, I’ve had plenty of that today, and I just…” Eli released him, staring him down and practically testing if he was going to try and run off. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

George nodded slowly, instead taking her hands. “Okay.” He brought her in close and encircled her in his arms, his chin resting ever so lightly on the top of her head, while one hand stroked up and down on her back, soothing her. “He’s wrong, you know.”

“About what, exactly?” Eli asked dryly. “Trying to force me to snog him?”

“Well, that. But he’s wrong that nobody would want to go to the ball with you, that’s what I’m getting at.” He leaned back and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, giving her this serious, unreadable look. “You don’t need to worry about that, Eli.”

She sighed and leaned into his chest. Somehow, she didn’t quite believe him. It was a nice sentiment, but really…who would want her?


	11. Oblivious Eli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, lovelies! We are beginning to move into the meat of the full HP storyline, the actual books/movies rather than sitting on the sidelines. From this point on, the war is clear and present. I hope you enjoy!! As always, reviews/comments/criticisms are welcomed and appreciated!

The next Saturday, the houses were all scheduled for more dancing lessons—Eli was really planning to skip it, but before she could go hide away somewhere, Simon and the twins came and dragged her to the Gryffindors’ practice, despite her protestations. “Look, Professor McGonagall won’t let me stay,” she argued, even as they came around the corner into the proper hallway. “She’ll just send me back to the Slytherins.”

“No she won’t,” George denied insistently.

“Trust us,” Fred agreed.

With Eli’s permission, George had informed Simon and Fred about the situation, so it wasn’t a shock that they knew—but it was a shock they were trying such an inane, useless plan. She’d never be allowed to join Gryffindor’s practice, or any house’s.

They took her straight into the empty classroom, earning a myriad of strange looks from the Gryffindor students lining the walls, boys to one side and girls to the other. However, Professor McGonagall didn’t look at all surprised. “Ah, Miss Chaplain,” she greeted. “Professor Snape informed me you’d be joining us today. I trust that will not be an issue?” The second part she directed at her own house’s students. Hearing no dissent, she nodded once and gestured to the girls’ side. “Very well. If you will join the others, please.”

Eli managed not to give the boys a stunned look, though she knew she must look a bit pale because when she sat down next to Ginny, the other girl squeezed her hand and murmured, “Don’t worry, they won’t give you a hard time. They’re too afraid Fred and George will come after them.”

McGonagall demonstrated the steps for the day, a simple waltz, and Eli hurried to partner with Simon the moment practice started. “How the bloody hell did you manage this?” she asked.

He grinned. “We went to Snape last night, told him how roughly you’d taken it and suggested—only suggested, mind you—that you’d hex Carter into next year if you had to practice with him. And we offered you joining us as an alternative. He didn’t mind much, since we all know you’re sort of his Potions protégée and he doesn’t want you in trouble. After that, we just had to get him to write McGonagall about it. Easy.”

“Easy?” Eli grinned and stepped up, taking the position they’d been shown as the music began. “That isn’t _easy_.” She tugged at Simon, more leading him than being led, and forced him to follow the tempo. “Thank you, really.” Then she laughed brightly at Simon’s attempts to dance, completely distracted by his inability to follow a tempo. “It’s in three-four time, Simon. Big step on the first beat.”

“Ugh. I hate ballroom dancing,” he grumbled. “I’m rubbish at music.”

Smirking, Eli began tapping his shoulder every downbeat, murmuring the count to try and help him. After a time, he began to get it, actually taking larger, more confident steps and beginning to find the rhythm. By the time McGonagall called them to switch partners, Eli knew he actually had a chance of not stepping on his next partner’s toes, which was a far sight better than he’d been doing before. That was enough for her.

Over the course of the lesson, she stayed partnered with her friends and acquaintances—Gryffindors who already liked her well enough and wouldn’t try anything with her. It was infinitely better than what she’d experienced in her own house, and she actually had fun with it, learning a couple dances and laughing with whomever she had as a partner, genuinely enjoying herself. She did have a little sort of…spark inside her that wanted to partner up with George, but when she tried, Fred snatched her up first with a triumphant grin, whirling her off and away from his twin. Still, the whole thing was infinitely better than her single lesson with the Slytherins.

Over the next few weeks, until the Professor was satisfied, the dancing lessons continued—Eli discovered she had something of an affinity for ballroom dancing, oddly enough, and spent a little time practicing at night in the Slytherin common room.

The Yule Ball was scheduled for, naturally, Christmas Day, and Eli had to admit, she had a few reservations. It’d be her first time staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, for a start, and anyway she knew all her friends were staying, spending Christmas in the castle, so really, where else would she go? Most of her adoptive family would be there, so it wasn’t like she’d be alone.

One last Hogsmeade trip helped her get all the presents she still needed, an attempt to calm her anxiety—she wanted something for everyone, and she had a history of pretty good presents, so she couldn’t just sit it out, really. And besides, she didn’t want to, she liked giving presents, even if she didn’t get anything in return she still loved it. But she was still anxious in the days leading up to the Yule Ball, and honestly, presents weren’t the cause. No, she was struggling because, despite George’s assurances, nobody had asked her to the ball. Not one person.

Eli put it behind herself for a couple hours, though, as she worked on an extra credit potion in the Potions classroom, one of the many Professor Snape had been setting her recently. Not that she minded—he was putting a special emphasis on healing-based potions, and had even helped her in creating a few of her own, much to her surprise. It was a good enough distraction to get her through the evening of the 21st, until she distracted herself by wrapping up her present to Remus, and heading off to the owlery to send it. She would’ve asked Harry to let her borrow Hedwig, but apparently his snowy owl was out sending something else, so she carefully tied the little package to the leg of a pretty barn owl and send it off that way. Eli had spent several weeks enchanting a piece of moonstone to assist Remus with some of his symptoms, especially since she knew the Wolfsbane potion would be a bit more unreachable for him without Professor Snape to brew it every month. Not that she’d been able to do any practical tests, which she’d explained in her note to him, but she still hoped it’d be of some use.

She left the owlery in better spirits, looking forward to hopefully hearing back from her semi-father-figure before Christmas, or even on the holiday itself. It’d be nice to know if he was doing all right, if he had a good, safe place to stay… The things she took for granted with everyone else, really.

Lost in her thoughts, Eli didn’t hear someone calling her name until she was halfway across a snowy courtyard. She turned, surprised to see George step into the courtyard, grinning at her. “And finally she stops,” he teased lightly. “Honestly, Eli, sometimes I wonder what planet you’re on.”

“Mars,” she replied, without missing a beat. Snow was falling around them, just softly, catching in her hair and glittering at the edges of her vision—whatever he wanted, it had better be quick, or she’d be soaked to the bone. “So, why were you shouting after me? Has something happened?” If he’d been seeking her out, it wasn’t exactly a stretch, plenty of awful things had happened recently.

Yet George looked mildly offended. “No. What, does it have to be bad news for me to talk to you?”

“Of course not,” she brushed off. “It’s just been mostly bad news lately, that’s all.” Eli smirked and prodded his ribs. “So, are you all set for the ball? I finished my dress last night, I had to make a few alterations, make it less…reasonable.”

He smirked, giving her a knowing smile. “Wonder how many teachers will tell you to cover up.”

“It’s perfectly acceptable!” she argued right back, crossing her arms. “None. That’s my goal, at least.” A thought drifted through her mind, and she just couldn’t let it go. So, tentatively, she hedged, “I’m sure you’ve got your date set up and everything. I heard you turn down Sylvia Wintersmith earlier, you must have someone excellent lined up to turn her down.” Sylvia Wintersmith was a Ravenclaw known for her pretty chocolate-brown waves and sparkling eyes, a definite favorite among the boys of the school. Yet George had politely turned her down earlier in the day, for whatever reason.

“Ah…not exactly,” he admitted, looking a touch sheepish. “I haven’t got anyone.”

Eli tipped her head to one side. “You’re going stag?” It hardly seemed like him—he and Fred were both social almost to a fault, and the fact that _Sylvia Wintersmith_ had asked him only spoke to that fact.

This time he looked truly embarrassed. “I have someone in mind… Just…haven’t asked yet.”

“Well, there’s only a few days, you’d best get on it,” she laughed. Though somewhere in her chest, there was this…little spike of pain burrowing, unlike anything she’d felt before. Here she was, encouraging one of her best friends to ask the girl he really wanted to go with, which should be a good thing… So why did it hurt so much?

George nodded quickly, almost nervously. “Right. Well then…” He cleared his throat and gave her a shy smile. “Eli…would you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“Would I _what_?” Eli knew her jaw was hanging, but she just couldn’t care. Was he really asking her— _her_ —if she wanted to go to the ball with him? It was almost ludicrous that he’d need to ask, that he’d think she’d…

“I—I mean…if you don’t want to I understand, it’s all right…”

Eli shook her head fiercely. “Oh, hush up!” She practically leapt forward and hugged him tightly, hiding her ridiculous grin in his shoulder just seconds before he could see it. “Of _course_ I will, I never thought—that is—I didn’t expect you to want to go with _me_ , we’re friends and much prettier girls like Sylvia Wintersmith asked you, so I just…” Forcibly, she closed her mouth and stepped back, feeling a wave of shyness. Her mouth had gotten away from her there. “Sorry. Anyway. Yes, yes I absolutely will go with you.”

He grinned widely, and caught her hands, tugging her back in close. “You’re prettier than all those girls anyway.”

She would _not_ blush, not at a compliment from a silly boy like him, she absolutely would not. “It’s a nice joke,” she snickered instead. “I’m your friend, you’d feel obligated to make me feel better, that’s all.”

“That is _not_ all,” he argued back insistently. “I think you’re-”

“Miss Chaplain, Mr. Weasley, isn’t it time you got back to your dormitories?” Professor Snape asked, stepping just to the edge of the courtyard. “It’s getting very late.”

Eli winced and took a step back, chagrinned. It was a sweet gesture, George asking her so she wouldn’t be alone—but that’s all it was, wasn’t it? A friend looking after a friend. With the moment gone, she could see that clearly now. Still, it’d be a far sight better than going alone. “Yes, sir,” she agreed. He strode off then, though she knew he wouldn’t have gone far, so they didn’t have more than a few moments to wrap it up. “Thank you for asking me,” she murmured, dipping her head. “And—and saying things like that, it’s really sweet, but you don’t need to, y’know, make me feel better.” Before he could reply, she added, “I’d still love to go with you, but you don’t need to pretend it’s anything else.”

“I—Eli, no, that’s not it-”

But she cut him off. “I’ll see you tomorrow, George.” Eli lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek gently, feeling his hands try to catch her robes, before she slipped from his grasp and hurried off towards the dormitories, her heart pounding something fierce in her chest.

She was just a few corridors away when the sound of someone sniffling reached her—like somebody was attempting to stop crying. Against her better judgment, perhaps, Eli turned and followed the sound, ending up in an empty classroom, only occupied by one person, hunched in the far corner and shivering faintly.

Simon.

“What are you doing here?” she breathed out, rushing to kneel in front of him.

Simon wiped at his eyes and gave her a watery smile. “Oh, hey, Eli,” he mumbled. “Nothing. Hiding.”

She frowned at him. “Those aren’t the same thing.” Eli scrunched into the corner beside him, offering him companionship without actually grabbing him—somehow she felt that would be too much, in his current state. He was notoriously hard to comfort. “Come on, you can tell me. Did someone hurt you? I’ll hex them, I swear I will, just give me a name and I’ll ruin them.”

“Nobody hurt me,” he sighed, wiping uselessly at his eyes. “I just…asked someone to the ball, that’s it.”

Eli tried to piece it together in her mind. “And…they turned you down? Who’d you ask?”

“They didn’t exactly turn me down,” he explained, dodging her second question pretty blatantly. “Just…they weren’t sure, that’s all.”

“Who?” she demanded fiercely. “Who was it, Simon?”

He looked away quickly. “No one.”

“Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Simon!”

“It was Fred, all right?!” Simon snapped, his voice breaking. “I asked Fred to the bloody ball. And it was stupid and I can’t ever face him or anyone now.”

Eli settled into the wall, letting him calm down before she spoke again. “It’s not like I didn’t know you liked him,” she told him casually. “And I doubt it’s as bad as all that. What did he say to you, if he wasn’t sure?”

Simon slowly looked at her, expression tentative and surprised. “You…you knew that I…”

“I’ve known for ages, Simon,” she told him matter-of-factly. “It’s not exactly news to me.”

He shook his head quickly. “No, I know you knew I’m…y’know… But… I didn’t know you knew about _him_ …” Simon’s face lit up red even though he hadn’t said the name.

Eli gave him a dry look. “You start to resemble a cherry every time he so much as touches you. It’s not hard to spot, honestly. When I wrote you that letter, I was hoping you’d sort of confess it to me, really, so I could talk you through it, but this works too, I suppose.” She did drape an arm around him then, pulling him into her side. “Now, tell me what he said. Do I need to go knock his head around a bit?”

“It wasn’t bad,” Simon told her reluctantly. “He just said…y’know…that he wasn’t really sure because he hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t thought about… _me_ that way… And I sort of…”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me. You left before he could finish.”

He winced, but nodded just the same. “I panicked! He looked so uncomfortable and I couldn’t bear to stand there anymore… So I just…left… I was hoping to find you but I had no idea where you’d gone, and I just…ended up down here.”

“I was getting asked to the ball by George, actually, but it was only a nice gesture, he wasn’t-”

But Simon interrupted her. “Are you daft?!” he exclaimed, gaping at her. “Blimey, Eli. He’s head over heels for you, can’t you see it? You could spot me fancying Fred but you can’t see that George has it bad for you?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You really have no idea, do you?”

Eli scowled something fierce, completely refusing it. “Nonsense.” She just couldn’t see it, couldn’t see how he liked her when girls like Sylvia Wintersmith and Rosalyn MacKenzie existed. “He was only being nice, and he probably won’t want to now that I’ve figured it out… What’s important is getting you and Fred to talk.”

“I’ll talk to him if you talk to George,” Simon compromised, giving her a wry look.

She spluttered at him uselessly for a moment before grumbling, “Fine. But only so you can work out your issues. I don’t have a problem.”

Simon rolled his eyes and leant his head on her shoulder. “Sure you don’t.”

\--

The next morning at breakfast, Eli purposefully sought out George, if only to give Simon and Fred a little privacy by dragging the other twin away. She’d expected a bit of a fight, getting him away, but as soon as she approached he rose to his feet and murmured, “We should talk.” So Eli trailed him outside, to a different courtyard than the one they’d been in the night before, and sat down beside him on a stone wall, her feet dangling a few inches above the ground.

“I kn-” she tried to begin.

But George interrupted her. “Eli, I’m not just being nice,” he told her quickly, cutting her off. “I—I really do want to go with you, okay? It’s not for nothing. And I mean… Honestly… I don’t think you need charity like that, for me to just…go so you don’t feel left out.”

Her cheeks burned. God, had Simon been right?! “It’s—but you…” She swallowed dryly. “I didn’t think you…”

“I know.” George grinned and bumped her shoulder with his own. “You’re kind of oblivious, really. You didn’t even notice that I was going to kiss you the night after the first task.” He said it so casually that she started to react before she’d really understood the content—but once she tuned into it, Eli felt her face grow hot as she spluttered at him, stunned beyond anything.

“You were going to—but I thought… _what_?!”

He laughed brightly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in tight, apparently more at ease now. “Right there outside the library. And you had no idea!”

Eli was completely unbalanced by all of it. He…liked her? It felt sort of juvenile, next year they’d be adults, but she felt so… _giddy_ about it, despite how casually they were discussing the whole thing. For ages she’d seen him as just…just her friend, her family, someone she played pranks with and teased mercilessly, receiving the same treatment in return… But he had been about to _kiss_ her. She’d practically given up all hope of anyone wanting to do that ever, full stop! “Well, why didn’t you?” she asked slyly, peering up at him.

But George just smirked. “Not the right time.” He sort of made like he was going to bump her again, but he just rested against her instead, making her smile. “So…just to check since this has been _far_ more confusing than I expected… You do want to go to the ball with me?”

“Yes,” she agreed, wrinkling her nose at him.

“And…not as friends?”

This one she couldn’t be so direct on. “If that’s how you’re asking.”

George’s fingers crept across her hand. “It is.” He almost slipped his hand into hers, but instead paused just shy of it, clearly giving her an invitation, almost a challenge. And Eli wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. So she twined her fingers between his, giving him a quick squeeze and a smile. “Then it’s settled,” she agreed lightly.

He nodded once, pleased, then dropped a bombshell. “So…what are Simon and Fred up to? They both looked pretty…grim, earlier.”

Eli shrugged as easily as she could, not wanting to give anything away. It wasn’t exactly hers to tell. “I’m not sure. With those two, it could be anything.” What she needed to do was turn the tables, put this on him instead, so he’d have no idea what she knew. She couldn’t risk him pestering her about it. “Fred didn’t tell you anything?”

“Contrary to popular belief, twins don’t share _everything_ ,” he told her haughtily. Then, a bit gentler, he added, “But I’m especially worried since he didn’t say anything, to be honest. He was acting off this morning.”

She marshaled her face into her best _confused_ look. “Off? What do you mean?”

George shrugged. “I dunno, just…not himself. It’s weird.” But he just sighed and waved it off, unconcerned. “Anyway. Now I can stop worrying about this and get back to worrying about being useless at dancing.”

“I saw you in practice,” she laughed. “You’re not useless.”

He tugged on a piece of her hair. “More useless than you, anyway.” Dropping a quick kiss onto the top of her head, George slid off the wall and grinned widely. “I’ll see you around, Eli!” He dashed off, and she shook her head wearily. Honestly. That boy was utterly ridiculous. But she couldn’t worry about that now. No, she needed to go find Simon—and maybe Fred—and figure out exactly what was going on between them. Somehow she felt they both would be completely useless in resolving this issue.

\--

Simon avoided her until the night before the ball, when Eli headed up to Gryffindor tower to sleep after dinner. She’d gotten express permission since it was Christmas, after all, and all her friends were there—the only rule was she had to stay in the common room. It suited her just fine. George met her in the dungeons and took her up himself, since he knew the password, and they chatted amiably the whole way up, her dodging his attempts to find out what she was wearing to the ball the next day, and they were still laughing when they stepped into the portrait hole…

Right into an awkward silence between Simon and Fred.

“What’d we miss?” George asked blithely, sitting on the edge of the armchair his twin had taken up residence on.

Eli rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an arse,” she muttered.

“It’s nothing.” Simon couldn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes, though, which completely gave him away.

“Clearly it’s not nothing,” George pointed out. “But fine, keep your secrets, then.” Thankfully he then changed the subject. “So, everyone ready for tomorrow then, I suppose? Presents and all that?”

She grinned widely, pleased with that change. “Well, I’m ready. Who knows if you lot are? I’ve been better at presents for _years_ , you’ll have to do plenty to keep up with me.” The boys jumped to argue, and conversation moved into safer waters, but Eli didn’t miss the anxious sideways looks Simon and Fred kept exchanging. She only hoped they’d work this little incident out soon.

Once the boys had all gone up to bed, Eli placed everyone’s presents under the common room tree and curled up on the comfiest sofa, absently watching the fire flickering. The day had left her utterly exhausted. There was almost more than she could even comprehend, more than she was prepared for in one single day. Yet for once, it wasn’t all bad—Simon and Fred didn’t hate each other, at least, and George… He’d asked her to…

Eli pressed her hands over her face. She was sixteen, not some giggly little first year. So a boy had asked her to the ball, so what? It wasn’t going to change anything, they were friends before anything else, and besides, she had bigger things in her head. Didn’t she?

Though she did manage to sleep, Eli’s dreams were fraught with nightmares and strange scenes she couldn’t understand properly—when she woke up, she only had the faintest sense of what she’d dreamed anyway, so it didn’t matter. She awoke near dawn, before anyone else, and had time to change quickly into a turtleneck sweater and some jeans, just tucking her feet inside a pair of polka dot socks when the others all came clamoring downstairs.

“Enjoy your night on the couch?” Fred teased, snatching a sock before she could slip it on.

Eli rolled her eyes. “Not my first time sleeping on a couch, you know,” she pointed out. “I do that all the time in my own house.” Grabbing her sock back and putting it firmly on her now-cold foot, she crossed to sit in front of the tree, leading all the others over. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Hermione beamed at her as she selected one of her own gifts from under the tree. “We’ll open presents, have breakfast in the Great Hall, and then Ginny and I are getting you into the girls’ dormitory so we can all get ready together.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Eli demurred—though secretly she was incredibly flattered. She knew Ginny well, looking on the girl like a little sister, but she scarcely knew Hermione at all. It was a nice gesture that she’d never expected, honestly. But it would make getting ready _so_ much easier and far more fun, since she’d be able to have some assistance and companionship.

“Well, we’re doing it anyway,” Ginny told her firmly. “You’re not going all the way back down to the dungeons just for that.”

They all began opening presents, and Eli was more than pleased when Harry and Hermione expressed their shock that she’d gotten them presents too. It was a nice gesture and she knew that, but she couldn’t imagine leaving anyone out, not at Christmastime. The only disappointment was that she had only a couple presents under the tree, from Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and Remus respectively, so she could only assume Simon and the twins either forgot, or couldn’t come up with anything. Still, Eli put on a brave face and sat to the side while the others finished up, wearing her new hat from Mrs. Weasley and smiling at each new present. The best by far was Remus’s—he’d gotten her these little songbird earrings that sung Christmas carols, and could be taught new songs to suit any occasion.

At one point, Simon vanished up to the boys’ dormitory, saying he’d be right back, while everyone continued methodically working through the little pile under the tree. A handful of other Gryffindors had come down by then, exchanging gifts or talking, but nobody else had taken advantage of the tree, so they had the corner all to themselves.

“Eli, come here a moment, will you?” George asked, holding an arm out. She had to fight off the urge to roll her eyes as she came to stand beside him, and let him drape his arm across her shoulders. “Now, you’ve probably been thinking we forgot all about you,” he told her, grinning.

She twisted her mouth up. “A bit.” She was a little put out, after all.

“But you know us better than that, really,” Fred laughed, nudging her side. “Simes! Bring it down!”

Simon jogged back down the staircase carrying a box—not just an ordinary box, though. It was one of those fake-wrapped boxes with a lid you could pull off, something to only temporarily hide something inside. Eli felt her heart kick up in her chest as she approached and took hold of the lid, the twins on either side of her, wondering what exactly they’d gotten her. For all she knew, it could be a big prank just to mess with her, something silly and childish that’d be right up their alley. “I’m not going to get covered in anything disgusting, am I?” she asked, scowling at them. “I’d like some warning if that’s the case.”

“We’d never,” George denied loftily, feigning offense.

Eli sighed roughly, but gave up anyway and opened the box. For a moment she didn’t see anything in the dim light, but then…

A little face poked its head over the rim, tiny claws catching the edge of the box as it squeaked at her.

A kitten.

They’d gotten her a kitten?!

Eli lifted the kitten out from the box and brought it to her face, giggling as it snuffled kitty kisses on her nose and pawed at her cheeks. “Oh my gosh,” she breathed out. “You—did all three of you—is this my present?” she asked in disbelief.

“You know it,” Simon confirmed, grinning.

“Georgie and I found him,” Fred hurried to explain. “This cat had kittens near our house right before school started, only one day she ran off and left this little guy behind.”

“Mum let us keep him since we wanted to give him to you,” George added on quickly. “I don’t think she trusts us with pets.”

Simon eyed him. “That’s probably best, y’know.”

Eli grinned and cuddled the kitten against her chest, feeling him purr and begin to knead her arm lovingly. “He’s so sweet! I can’t believe it, I’ve always wanted a cat, and you…” She felt her cheeks warming up, but how could she not be elated?! It was what she’d wanted for most of her life! “Okay, I’ll admit it, you topped me in presents this year,” she laughed. “Does he have a name?”

“Nah, we thought that was your call,” George told her with a smirk. “Got any ideas?”

She looked down at the kitten, who was beginning to bat playfully at one of her curls. He was mostly a black fluffball, except for the white ‘socks’ on each of his feet, and at the tip of his tail. His little green eyes were bright and curious, currently focused on his new prey—but he was sweet, not at all mean-spirited, and clearly happy just sitting in her arms. A wonderful little kitten, honestly. “I’ll have to think about it,” she murmured, gently freeing her hair from his miniature claws.

“He’s sweet, though, isn’t he?” Simon asked eagerly. “We’ve been keeping him in our dorm all term.”

“Sweet except for the time he mauled my Charms homework,” Fred grumbled.

Eli laughed and petted the kitten’s head. “He just wanted to help,” she teased lightly. But then she smiled, genuinely, and told them, “Thank you so much, all of you. Really. This is amazing.” And honestly, it was more than she ever could’ve expected or hoped for. More than ever, she felt like she was part of a family.

\--

True to Hermione’s word, after a late breakfast—more like lunch, in the end—the girls snuck Eli up to the girls’ dormitory to get ready. They all laid their dresses out on Hermione’s bed and set about the whole process together. Eli had never been one to wear makeup or try very hard in her appearance, but she _was_ quite good with braids, so she assisted Hermione in creating a beautiful updo with a bun that looked like a flower, and a few tendrils of curls to hang down over her shoulder. Ginny only wanted part of her hair back, which was easy enough, while Eli fretted back and forth on what to do.

“I doubt anyone will be paying much attention to your hair when you’re wearing this,” Ginny pointed out with a wry grin, nodding at Eli’s dress.

Hermione eyed her, though. “Who are you going with, Eli? You never said.”

“Didn’t I?” Eli kept her tone deceptively light. “Must have slipped my mind.” She pretended to be distracted by her hair, which was being particularly unruly that day, in her own defense… But the girls weren’t having any of it.

“Why won’t you tell us?” asked Ginny firmly, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Eli tried to look away again, only to find Hermione mirroring the redhead’s stance, both looking quite fierce and determined. So she sighed, reluctantly, and mumbled out, “It’s…I’m going with George.”

To her surprise, Ginny beamed hugely and hugged her, all happiness and elation. “That’s perfect! I know he’s been head over heels for you for _ages_ , ugh, it’s been so annoying watching him dance around you like a bloody penguin.”

“What?” Eli gaped at her. “You _knew_ and you never said?”

“It’s been fun watching you be completely oblivious,” she giggled in return, visibly pleased. “Besides, Fred and I had a bet running on who’d get there first, him or you. And I just won ten galleons off him since George asked you before you figured it out.”

“Nice to know my friends make bets about me,” Eli grumbled, though she wasn’t actually offended. Mostly she was frustrated she hadn’t figured it out herself, that she’d been able to put aside the signs so easily and not even spot George’s interest… Though it was working out all right, she figured. “Anyway, it’s only for the ball, we haven’t exactly discussed anything else,” she pointed out, bending down to scoop up her kitten, newly dubbed Jinx, as he wound between her legs. “Now, will someone please help me figure out what to do with my hair before I go crazy?”

After a bit, they settled on a half-up half-down look for Eli, letting most of her curls hang down her back while a few were braided and twined along the back of her head. She fussed with it until past seven, when Ginny and Hermione practically forced her to put her dress on and stop worrying.

Finally ready, they all headed down—only Hermione forgot her wand, and insisted she needed to have it, so she left Ginny and Eli and went back upstairs. Ginny peeled off as soon as they reached the hall and linked up with Neville, her date, leaving Eli to hunt down her own date. She didn’t mind much, honestly, as she weaved throughout the stragglers still avoiding heading inside, but what she did mind was the stares, the whispers…the surprise that she actually looked good.

Eli had chosen a beautiful emerald green gown, covered with a sheer black tulle, wrapped at the waist with a band of emerald green satin. The bodice was patterned in silver and black sequins, sewn to look like flames, which descended down to her hips from the waist. She’d figured she might as well be a Slytherin, if she was going to dress up—and with her hair curled and smoothed, looking almost silvery in the dim lighting, she wasn’t going to pretend she looked _bad_. Still, it wasn’t very comforting that people were so overtly surprised she’d cleaned up, or perhaps bothered to show up at all.

“Eli, hey!” Simon called out, waving her over. He was to the side of the doors of the Great Hall, looking rather dashing in grey dress robes with a midnight blue vest underneath.

Grateful to have found _someone_ , Eli hurried over and embraced him, smiling widely. “So, you seem chipper,” she pointed out wryly. “Did you work anything out with a certain someone?” Well, she had to ask.

He winced a bit, though. “Not…exactly,” he admitted. “He isn’t sure, honestly, but…” Then a little smile slipped up on his face. “He isn’t going with anyone else.”

Eli tamped down the urge to roll her eyes. “Well, that’s decent, I suppose,” she grumbled. “Could be better, but…”

“Look, I’ll take what I can get,” Simon told her calmly. “He’s not sure but he’s trying, so that counts for something, at least to me. It’s a chance, Eli. It’s a far sight better than what I had before. I’m not upset about that.”

She was going to reply to him again, most likely argumentatively, but Simon nudged her arm and pointed behind her, and Eli turned to see Fred and George, dressed identically with black dress robes and tan-orange vests. Fred looked amused, giving his brother a smug grin, but George looked a touch…dare she say it…flustered? Why would he be flustered, though? There wasn’t any reason, but there wasn’t much of another explanation for Fred’s expression…

“Eli, you look…” George swallowed and smiled at her. “Beautiful.”

_Oh_.

She blushed despite herself, and tried to remember that this was the same boy who had teased her incessantly since they were eleven, who played ridiculous pranks and who had _failed_ Transfiguration… Yet she was taken aback by how handsome he looked just then, and could hardly find her voice. But she did, because she wasn’t going to be shown up by him, nor was she going to give Fred a reason to tease her forever. “Thank you,” she murmured, keeping her tone demure and at ease. “You look handsome yourself.” Then, just to lighten the mood, Eli added, “Fred, you look…well…”

“Oi!” He turned up his nose at her. “We’re _identical_ , in case it’s escaped your notice, Eli.”

“And yet I’ve never had a problem telling you apart,” she sing-songed as innocently as she could. “Odd, isn’t it?”

Thankfully the tension was eased then, and George found his feet underneath him, crossing to take Eli’s arm almost too quickly. She just smiled and rested her hand atop his arm, squeezing gently to try and settle him—god, she’d never seen him nervous like this. “We ought to be getting inside,” she pointed out, as Fred and Simon had begun to stare awkwardly at each other. “The champions’ procession will start soon.”

The four headed inside and took their places in the mass of students, and Eli gripped onto George’s arm just a little tighter as the whispers started up. Not too many, not yet, but more than she’d honestly expected. It wasn’t as if she didn’t spend all her time with the Gryffindor boys, honestly, so why was it so astonishing that she’d come to the ball with one?

Mercifully, she was saved when the doors at the head of the hall opened and the four champions processed in—Fleur Delacour with Roger Davies, of all people, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain; Viktor Krum with a blushing Hermione on his arm; Cedric with a Ravenclaw named Cho Chang; and finally Harry, with a Gryffindor Eli recalled as Parvati Patil. They entered to much cheering and shouting, which she didn’t participate in really, except when Harry walked in, and then took the center of the room. The orchestra started up and they began to dance, just a simple waltz, just the champions and their partners in the middle of the room, alone.

“Blimey, this isn’t awkward at all, is it?” George whispered to her.

Eli grinned. “Not in the slightest.” She was mostly just glad for the distraction, to be honest, because who would look at her when they could stare at _this_ display?

After a time, a few more couples stepped out and joined the champions, including Neville and Ginny, to Eli’s delight. They were sweet together, not necessarily romantic at this stage but a good match regardless. With more people dancing it wasn’t quite so awkward, though there was still an air of just…discomfort from plenty of students, ones who were unsure if they wanted to join or not, she figured.

“Hey.” George nudged Eli’s side, before stepping away from her and offering her a hand. “Dance with me?”

Her first instinct was to smack his hand away and say no, just from past experience whenever the boys propositioned her with anything—but this was different, it wasn’t a setup for a prank, it was just…real. So Eli nodded, pretending she wasn’t a bit shy about it, and let him lead her out onto the floor. At first it was…embarrassing, honestly, and Eli wasn’t sure about her choices. Every time they turned, she could see people staring, catch snippets of whispers, could feel the judgment radiating from both their houses.

But then George pulled her in closer and spun her away from the edge, nearly center on the dance floor, and leaned in over her a little. “Don’t pay attention to them, Eli,” he murmured. “They don’t matter. This is just for us.”

“I—but-”

He shook his head firmly. “Just focus on me, okay?”

Eli huffed, flustered, but nodded anyway. She could give him that much. So she tightened her fingers on his robes and shut everything else out, just focusing on George, on his eyes, on following the thrum of the music…and slowly, the rest of the room faded away, the whispers and stares…until all she could see was George, the soft smile on his face, the sweet way he looked at her…

She wasn’t sure how many songs passed before he finally led her off the dance floor, breathless and laughing. “I had no idea you could dance so well,” Eli snickered, smirking up at him.

George feigned offense. “Do you think I’m a complete klutz?” he scoffed. “And who knew someone so ungainly could dance like a fairy princess, hm?”

“Hey!” Eli wrinkled her nose up at him. “I’m always graceful.” To be fair, she’d been surprised she’d made a decent dancer, really, but she just attributed that to Quidditch, in the end. It took an awful lot of coordination to play Keeper, after all. She sat down at the nearest table and rested her feet, regretting the silver heels she’d chosen for the evening. They _looked_ good, but they were totally impractical for a dance.

“Who is he _with_?” a girl whispered nearby—Eli couldn’t pin down who just from the voice. “That Slytherin girl? Ugh. Why would he pick _her_?”

Eli shot to her feet, her hand diving for her wand, but George caught her wrist in time and tugged her down beside him. “Don’t pay them any mind,” he muttered, casting a sharp look over his shoulder. “They’re not worth the effort. Besides.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. “I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks, I’d pick you again in a heartbeat.”

She forcibly ignored the butterflies taking up residence in her stomach. “I just—don’t want you to be branded some way because of me,” she explained. “It’s been bad enough causing problems for you three just by being _friends_ , if we’re…anything else… I don’t want to cause trouble just by being me.”

George frowned at her, looking worried. “You aren’t going to, I promise. Look, Eli, why does it matter what anyone else thinks? It’s not about them, it’s about us, so who gives a rat’s arse what somebody else thinks of it? What happened to hexing the living daylights out of anyone who looked at you the wrong way, huh?”

“I grew up,” Eli mumbled. “Besides, it’s not me I’m worried about. I don’t have any reputation to speak of. But you’ve got Fred to worry about, and Ron, and Ginny, and your whole family. Your mother-”

“Mum would be _beside_ herself with joy if she knew about this,” George argued back. “You’re already part of the family, I’ve told you that, and she loves you to pieces, honestly, I think she likes you more than me and Fred. Yeah, you’re a Slytherin, but that’s not the _only_ thing that defines you. That stuff only matters here, at Hogwarts. Once we’re out, nobody’s going to care what houses we were in. It’s not going to matter after next year.”

She sighed and tugged at her hair anxiously, pulling a curl and letting it bounce back into place. “You deserve better than that,” she told him under her breath.

George suddenly rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Come with me,” he urged. Eli did, without question, letting him lead her from the Great Hall just as the orchestra stopped and the main band took the stage, forgoing the ball for…well…wherever he wanted to go. She trusted him explicitly.

_Wherever_ turned out to be the Astronomy Tower. Eli carefully picked her way across the wooden planks that made up the floor, not wanting to get her heels stuck between boards, until she reached the edge and leaned onto the railing, staring out at the stars. It was cold, bitterly so, but for the moment she just didn’t care—she’d worry about that if she started shivering. George came up beside her then anyway, distracting her.

“Okay, look.” He gestured out widely at the sky. “Do you think _houses_ matter to any of that? To the universe?”

Eli smirked to herself. “Of course not. But down here-”

“It’s not about that,” George argued back quickly. “Just—just listen, please?” When she nodded, he set his shoulders and continued. “None of us have ever cared that you’re in Slytherin. Honestly, I _like_ those qualities in you, I enjoy you being different than me, being all…y’know, cunning and sharp like you are. You hold your own. I don’t want you to be anyone else, Eli, I never have. And none of us do either, not Fred or Simon or Ginny or anybody, no one in the family cares what house you’re from. They just like you for you. _I_ just like you for you. Anyone who cares that we’re from opposing houses can bugger off, it doesn’t matter to me, and it shouldn’t matter to you. You’ve never cared about that sort of stuff, right? You set me and Fred to rights when we judged you first, just by being a Slytherin. Yeah, I’m not an idiot, I know if we—actually date or anything some people will talk, they’ll make a fuss, but well…” He grinned cheekily. “My girlfriend could just hex them into next year anyway, couldn’t she?”

She giggled, nodding demurely. That much was true. But even as she laughed, a shiver ran through her, a side effect of the chilly night air, halting his impassioned speech. “Here,” George murmured, taking off his cloak and draping it around her shoulders. His hands lingered where he’d placed it, warm through the fabric, and Eli took a step closer, peering up at him. “Thank you,” she whispered, almost shyly.

George smiled crookedly. “No problem.” He lifted one hand and brushed it from her face, his fingers grazing her cheek and sending a thrill shooting down her spine. “Eli…look…” His expression grew soft. “I really like you, that’s not exactly a secret anymore, is it? And honestly, I’m not going to let other people get in my way. Now…you said yes to going to the ball with me, so I’m sort of assuming I’m not, well, the only one who feels that way… So… Are you going to let other people stop you? If that’s what you want, are you really just going to back down because of what someone else thinks?”

Eli shook her head fiercely. “No. You’re right, it’s not about them. It’s not about anyone else.”

His hand trailed back up to cradle her face, and Eli stepped in closer, until she was almost pressed against him. “So…d’you think it’s the right time now?” she asked him a bit playfully.

“The right time?” he asked, tilting his head to one side.

She couldn’t keep back the cherry-red flush that filled her cheeks. “To kiss me.”

George smirked. “You know… I think it just might be.” Without any further pretense, he tugged her in close and kissed her, more gently than she’d imagined—but god if it wasn’t _perfect_ , making her feel warm right down to her toes, sending every other little thought scurrying right out of her mind as she twined one hand into his dress shirt, leaned her whole body in, because every bit of her wanted this, wanted _him_. And for that moment, until he pulled back and rested his forehead on hers, smiling happily, everything was utterly and completely perfect.


	12. Endings and Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, here we go. I have been so, SO painfully anxious about reaching this point in the story, about what everyone will think about this particular bit of plot. There is always a balance to be struck with OCs in preexisting universes, to tie them in with the canon story enough to make them relevant, but without turning them into a Mary Sue (do we still use that term?!) and ruining the whole thing. I really hope I've achieved that - however human error and all, so please tell me what you think! And thank you so much for reading, it means the world to me.

The second task was, in all actuality, quite boring. Eli spent the hour alternating between writing up new potions and chatting absently with the boys. Fred had spent almost a week teasing her and George incessantly, coming up with cutesy nicknames for them and feigning distress, until finally he settled and reined it in to merely threatening to tell Mrs. Weasley before they were ready, just to try and extort whatever he wanted. Eli put an end to that when she hexed him and made him lose his voice for twenty-four hours. Naturally, he was still a bit sore about that, though Simon was working him out of it pretty efficiently.

Eli swore something had happened between the two the night of the Yule Ball, but couldn’t get either of them to admit it—not even Simon in private!—so she left it alone, for the most part.

Valentine’s Day had come and gone just ten days before the second task, and seeing as their relationship was still quite new, Eli had been shocked when an owl delivered flowers to her dorm that morning, and George whisked her off to the lake for a lunchtime picnic in the afternoon. Overall, though, their manner had stayed the same, still teasing and sniping at each other, still friends before anything else.

With considerably more snogging involved now, though.

For the twins’ birthday, Eli presented them with a potion she’d written up—and tested—especially for the joke shop they wanted to open the very next year. It was a recipe of her own design, one she was particularly proud of. A colorless, odorless potion one could slip into another’s drink or food, which would cause them to only squawk like a chicken when they attempted to speak for a full twenty-four hours. She had a version which caused the victim to bark like a dog as well, with only a few easy modifications. Mostly she was staying out of the business, at least directly, so it was a special gift for their seventeenth.

Exams loomed, and though Professor Snape had commended Eli not only on her potions skills with preexisting ones, but her ability to write new recipes as well, she was still anxious to do well. But first, they had the final task to sit through.

That evening, after an early dinner, Eli headed down to the arena where the third task—a giant hedge maze—had been constructed, with Simon and the twins, slipping her hand into George’s on the way, and they sought out seats near the center to have the best view of everyone.

“This one’s gonna be boring too, isn’t it?” Simon lamented.

Eli snorted and nodded. “Completely. More chance of entertaining screaming, at least, but for the most part, yeah.”

“You’re a little scary, Eli,” George mumbled, raising an eyebrow at her. But he draped his arm across her shoulders as they sat down, so she knew he didn’t mean anything by it. She _was_ dark sometimes, after all.

“At least after this it’ll be over,” Fred pointed out, nudging Simon’s leg. “No more boring events, waiting for the time to run out.” He grinned widely. “Besides, it’ll be summer soon. Who’s coming to stay with us and when? I _know_ you’ve both asked about it, right? Or at least, you’d better have asked, because I might knock you upside the head if you haven’t.”

Eli rolled her eyes at the empty threat. “I told my parents I wasn’t sure when I’d be back. I promised to visit before next year starts, but I didn’t say when—and honestly, after last summer, I don’t think they’re exactly eager to have me back.” She wanted to feel sad about it, knew she ought to…but she was still stinging from her father’s outburst, even so long since it’d happened. The restriction and intolerance of who she was still hurt, though. “If your mum’s okay with it, I was thinking to just go to the Burrow with you lot once the term ends.”

“Perfect,” George agreed, kissing her temple. “Mum’ll be absolutely thrilled. You can spend your birthday with us.”

“We can take that summer Apparition class in Diagon Alley,” Simon suggested, beaming. “That’ll be a great excuse for me to avoid Rosalyn, mum won’t say no when I’ll be learning a new skill.” Rosalyn had mostly been absent since the champions’ selection, staying with her Beauxbatons friends and avoiding her brother as much as possible. At the moment, she was on the field with Fleur, ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be in the stands, chattering away in shrill French—annoying even from afar.

“Oh, brilliant!” Eli perked up immediately. “I’d forgotten about it. That’ll be fantastic, I won’t have to worry about being trapped at my parents’, I’ll just leave whenever I want.” There was more she wanted to say, but her next words were drowned out as the band began to play, announcing that the task was about to start. So she quieted down and leaned into George a bit, staring out at the four champions in their corners. Harry looked anxious, understandably, but thankfully he wasn’t alone on the field, which was good.

Headmaster Dumbledore took the center and magnified his voice as he began to speak. “Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the Triwizard Cup deep within the maze. Only he knows its exact position.” He gestured at Cedric first. “Now, as Mr. Diggory-” A cheer went up. He then gestured at Harry next. “-and Mr. Potter-” Another cheer, as the school had largely gotten behind Harry after the second task. “-tied for first position, they will be the first to enter the maze. Followed by Mr. Krum, and Miss Delacour.” Both Fleur and Krum received cheers of their own, Krum’s being loudest of all, naturally. “The first person to touch the cup will be the winner,” Dumbledore went on calmly. “I’ve instructed the staff to patrol the perimeter. If at any point should a contestant wish to withdraw from the task, he or she need only send up red sparks with their wands.” He drew the champions in close, to speak with them over the din of the crowd, shutting everyone else out.

Eli leaned in towards the boys. “At least they’ve got a way out this time, right?” she pointed out.

“Maybe they’ve got wise to how mental this contest is,” Simon muttered, shaking his head. “Still, what’s even _in_ that maze? Do we have any ideas?”

“Not a clue,” George told him.

“Nothing good, though,” Fred added.

She made a face. “But I wonder-”

_BOOM!_

Eli flinched as the cannon went off, announcing the official start of the task. The boys snickered at her, but she just turned her nose up at them and ignored it until George pulled her in and kissed her cheek, a bit sloppily, making the other two laugh and Eli soften despite playfully wiping her cheek off.

Then, all they could do was wait. Eli produced a pack of cards—muggle ones—and began teaching them how to play Tricks and Trumps, keeping them occupied for a while, until they all got a bit bored and started into guessing games, switching between a handful to keep it from getting stale. At one point, someone sent up red sparks, and the whole stadium got quiet, worried, until it was announced that Fleur Delacour had removed herself from the task. The Beauxbatons girls all looked so disappointed and distraught, Rosalyn perhaps most of all, yet the whole lot of them stayed in their seats, waiting for the task to finish regardless.

As time passed, Eli noticed Dumbledore and the other officials looking more and more concerned. “I think this is taking longer than expected,” she murmured, subtly nodding at the group of wizards.

“Yeah, something’s not right here,” George agreed under his breath.

Simon frowned deeply, peering down at the officials and wringing his hands a bit. Eli didn’t miss how Fred placed a hand on his knee to settle him, but she didn’t say anything, choosing to pretend it hadn’t happened. “I hope everyone’s okay,” Simon fretted. “We don’t even know what’s _in_ that blasted maze, it could be anything… They’ve already fought dragons…”

Suddenly, with a dry _popping_ sound, Harry reappeared at the center of the field, along with Cedric Diggory. So they’d tied?!

A cheer went up, almost deafening, as Eli rose to her feet and tried to see better. Why…why wasn’t Cedric moving? And was Harry…crying? Oh god…

“He’s dead,” she whispered, stunned. “Cedric’s dead.”

Fleur screamed shrilly, apparently seeing the same thing, and the elated cheering trickled off to an astonished silence, the band dropping out to stare in shock. A few other people gasped or screamed, but it all was fading to a dull roar in Eli’s ears. Seeing him lying there, not someone she knew well but still, a boy, a seventeen-year-old kid scarcely a year her senior, was _dead_. How?! How could Dumbledore and the bloody Minister of Magic let this happen?!

“Eli, Eli, look away, come on, don’t do that,” George whispered, catching her in his arms and spinning her to the side, forcibly breaking her gaze. She’d been staring unblinking at Cedric’s empty, lifeless eyes.

In the quiet, Harry’s tremulous, desperate voice carried right up the stands. “He’s back, he’s back! Voldemort’s back!”

Eli clung tight to George’s middle, her eyes flicking shut against the words.

“Cedric, he asked me to bring his body back… I couldn’t leave him, not there!” Harry was cut off as Dumbledore finally got him to quiet down, kneeling beside him, but it was too late. Everyone nearby had heard, and anyone further was learning what he’d said from the frantic, terrified whispers racing up the stands.

As she watched, Cedric’s father Amos let out a cry and forced his way through the crowd, followed shortly by Mr. Weasley, who had come for the final task along with the Minister—Eli tore free then and raced down the stairs, stopping at the bottom only when George caught her arm, keeping her from getting onto the field. “Don’t, just stay here,” he told her quietly. He was right, she knew it, but that didn’t make it any easier. Some part of this felt… _familiar_ , somehow, the death, the awful stillness in the air… She wanted to do _something_ , anything she could, she wanted to get to Harry, to Amos, to anybody who needed comfort right here… But it would be for naught, she knew that.

Professor Moody ushered Harry away, partly carrying him, and she was really glad for that, in the end—he didn’t need to stay there, in the sorrow. She was staring again, though, so she turned and pressed her face into George’s chest, breathing in and out slowly a few times before she could release him and look round again. The teachers were attempting to dismiss the students, to get them out of the stands, but nobody was willing to move yet. A handful had even made their way onto the field by now, mostly Hufflepuffs distraught by Cedric’s death, though they didn’t get far.

Eli was still surveying the crowd to try and stay focused elsewhere when, almost out of nowhere, Professor Snape appeared and caught her arm. “Eliana, come with me,” he ordered—and it was an order, not a request.

“I—but sir-”

He shook his head firmly. “We haven’t much time. Now.”

She couldn’t fathom what he needed her for, but she released George and chased after her head of house, giving him a reassuring backwards look when he grabbed at her sleeve, worried. Eli followed the professor up to the castle without asking any questions, but when they stepped inside, she finally summoned up the courage. “Sir, what did you need me for?” she asked breathlessly.

Professor Snape paused for a moment, long enough to give her a stern look. “I will explain later. Right now, I want you to run to my storeroom and find my vial of veritaserum. You know how to get to it. I must find the Headmaster. You will meet us outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. Do you understand?”

He’d spoken so quickly she almost couldn’t follow—but she caught it, thankfully, and nodded. “I understand.” Eli turned and raced off to the staircases, her heart pounding in her chest. He’d asked her to do this because he kept sensitive things like veritaserum in a secret, locked section of his storeroom, which required a special spell to get into. Not exactly common knowledge. It made sense now, why he’d dragged her off…but _why_ did he need veritaserum? Who was he extracting the truth from? She couldn’t fathom it. Surely not Harry…

But there wasn’t time to question it. Eli practically leapt up the stairs and turned a bit too hard down the first hallway, shoving off the wall to keep from falling over, the sense of urgency lending her extra speed. She reached the storeroom in record time, unsealed the wall partition that held the most sensitive potions, grabbed the veritaserum, and hightailed it to the DADA classroom.

There she found the Headmaster, along with Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. Eli hesitantly handed over the little vial of veritaserum, and made to follow them inside—but Dumbledore touched her shoulder lightly and shook his head. “Go rejoin your friends, Miss Chaplain,” he urged. “We’ll handle it from here.”

“I can help,” she protested, frowning. “Whatever’s going on, I could-”

“You’ve done well, but this isn’t a task for you,” Dumbledore told her sternly. “Now go.”

Eli tamped down on the sharp scowl that wanted to take over her face, and instead nodded, turning and striding off down the corridor. But she was fuming. How dare they include her—only halfway—and then shut her out! She wasn’t a _child_ , in a month she’d be seventeen! And more than that, this all mattered to her, whatever was going on felt so desperately important that she couldn’t just turn her back on it, ignore it… It was like what she’d told George—she’d seen too much and knew too much to just pretend nothing was happening.

Leaving the classroom behind, Eli swore to herself it was the last time she’d turn away from something so important.

\--

Over the next twenty-four hours, just by the sheer luck of having the right friends, Eli pieced together what had happened. Harry confided in their little group what had occurred in the maze, from Krum being bewitched to the cup being a portkey and dragging him and Cedric into a trap, all the way to the event Eli had been forced to miss—revealing that Professor Moody had actually been a Death Eater in disguise, the son of Bartemius Crouch Sr. The other awful piece of news was that Mr. Crouch had been found dead just after the second task, a fact which had been kept from the students and Harry, Ron, and Hermione had kept to themselves as well.

But the most important fact was, as far as Harry said, Voldemort had returned. Unequivocally, in physical form, _returned_. She didn’t disbelieve him, it was just a hard thing to take in—but he wasn’t lying, she could see it in his eyes. Besides, Gryffindors weren’t particularly known for their ability to lie.

With the castle still grieving and in shock, the end of term feast was called with that in mind, somber and quiet. Eli sat between George and Simon, ignoring her own house as usual, just focusing on her own thoughts. Something was just…swimming around in her head, a certainty she’d never had before. But it was there. Eli was certain, so intensely, desperately certain, that she would never let herself be helpless in the face of this evil. She would do anything, _everything_ in her power to help, to fight it— _him_ —whether it was through actually fighting or through healing, it didn’t matter. She’d do whatever it took.

Dumbledore stood at the head of the hall, staring at his podium for a while, apparently lost in thought. But finally he sighed wearily and began to speak. “Today…we acknowledge a really terrible loss,” he began solemnly. “Cedric Diggory was, as you all know, exceptionally hardworking, intricately fair-minded. And most importantly, a fierce, fierce friend. I think, therefore, you have the right to know exactly how he died.”

Eli perked up at that. So far, the details weren’t public knowledge—but apparently he’d decided to share it.

“You see, Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.” All eyes shot to him at that, a mix of shock and fear. “The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this, but not to do so, I think, would be an insult to his memory. Now the pain we all feel at this dreadful loss reminds me…reminds _us_ that while we may come from different places and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one. In light of recent events, the bonds of friendship we made this year will be more important than ever. Remember that…and Cedric Diggory will not have died in vain. You remember that, and we will celebrate a boy who was kind, and honest, and brave, and true, right to the very end.”

Underneath the table, George’s hand found hers, slipping between her fingers and holding on tight. She leaned into his side almost wearily, and shut her eyes to everything else. Eli was more grateful than she could express to him, for staying by her through it, handling her ups and downs and never wavering… God, she couldn’t imagine just…just going back to her parents’, communicating only through letters and not seeing him for the whole summer… How would she even spend a night away at this point?

The train ride home, the boys were mostly silent, and for once, Fred and Simon made no attempts to hide their growing closeness—they sat nearly pressed together the whole ride back. Occasionally, one of the four would speak up, say something, and eventually they fell into light conversation, mostly keeping themselves distracted.

Just before they arrived back at Kings Cross, the compartment door slid open and Rosalyn walked in, grinning sheepishly. She hadn’t gone back with the rest of Beauxbatons, they’d known that, but seeing her there was still a surprise.

“Oh…hey, Rose,” Simon greeted warily, eyeing her.

Rosalyn tugged a hand through her hair as she sucked in a shaky breath. “Look, I… I’m staying with you and mum this summer… It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

He frowned, but nodded anyway. “I—yeah, since you started school.”

She had the grace to look embarrassed. “Well, I’ll make up for it, I promise. Really.” Rosalyn quirked her lips up prettily. “I’m glad you’re all right, _mon petit frère_. I’ll see you later, _oui_?” She waved then, and flounced out of the compartment, leaving Simon sort of gaping after her.

“Who was that and what did they do with my sister?” he muttered, shaking his head. “She’s never that nice.”

“Maybe the whole tournament brought her back down to earth,” George suggested.

Simon shrugged wearily. “Well, it means I’ve got to go home for at least a bit. Maybe if Rose isn’t being a git, she’ll Apparate me to the Burrow in a bit. The class is in the end of July, right?”

“You’d better not miss it,” Eli warned him, smirking. “We’ll all make fun of you if you’re the only one who can’t Apparate by start of term.” She wasn’t joking—the twins at the very least wouldn’t possibly let him live it down.

He just waved her off, laughing, as the train began pulling into the station. They all headed off en masse when it finally stopped, meeting up with Rosalyn, Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione before stepping onto the platform, merging into one big group. Eli was conscious of being the only Slytherin in the bunch, even in her street clothes, but nobody seemed to mind. She was trying to stop caring, just like George had tried to insist, but it was difficult when she was constantly surrounded by people of a different house.

Eli noticed Harry speaking quietly to the twins, watched them gesture almost frantically for a moment before George accepted a little sack from him, and she made a mental note to ask about it later—but the privacy of the conversation made her hang back and pretend she hadn’t seen. She’d find out soon enough.

Hermione’s parents couldn’t get through the barrier, being muggles, and even if Harry’s family could get through they wouldn’t bother, so the two headed off together through the barrier. Rosalyn and Simon went to their aunt soon after, who looked positively thrilled when she noticed Rosalyn there too, leaving just Eli and the Weasleys to find their way.

Finally, they spotted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley—but they weren’t alone, though.

“Remus!” Eli yelped, rushing forward and practically leaping into his chest, wrapping him in a clearly unexpected hug. He just laughed and embraced her in return, amused by the antics. “What are you doing here?” she asked him, shocked.

He smiled at her kindly. “I thought it was high time you met that friend of mine I mentioned. That is, if you feel up to it just yet.”

Eli felt a shot of nerves go through her stomach. Was she? This was the person who was supposed to give a second, unbiased opinion on her heritage—and for a while, that had been too stressful a thought for her to even consider it. But things had changed now, she was coming to terms with the idea that she was adopted, somehow, and after everything that had happened that year, it _did_ feel like the right time. “I’m game,” she agreed finally.

Mrs. Weasley rested a hand on her shoulder gently. “I’ll come along at first, dear, so you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

“What’s going on now?” George asked, a bit protectively, stepping up behind Eli to sort of…perhaps intimidate Remus, she thought. Which was silly and unnecessary, but sweet of him. Of course, it made Mrs. Weasley’s eyes light up in suspicion, something they weren’t quite up to just yet.

Eli turned and gave him a wry look. “Just going to meet a friend of Remus’s, that’s all. I won’t stay long.”

“Yes, and I’ll be home tonight in time for dinner,” Mrs. Weasley added, staring her son down. “You go on with your father, George. Eliana’s in good hands, I promise.”

He frowned, but nodded anyway, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Eli’s forehead before going off after his twin. That made Mrs. Weasley’s eyes go wide, while Remus just chuckled and patted her shoulder. “They grow up too fast, don’t they?”

She sighed and shook her head wearily, apparently putting it aside for the time being, at least. “Right, well. Shall we?”

He nodded, and offered Eli his arm, giving her an encouraging look. She sucked in a deep breath, wondering if this might finally be when she’d get confirmation of her own ancestry—then she took his arm and steeled herself. One way or another, she wasn’t just going to sit on her arse.

They Disapparated then, reappearing moments later on a deserted street Eli had never seen before. “So…where are we?” she asked, looking around.

“Grimmauld Place, in London,” Mrs. Weasley told her. “It’s a—a safe place, dear, you have nothing to worry about here.”

Eli winced and tried to marshal her face into something calmer. Apparently she was showing a bit too much of her trepidation, which was not something she wanted to do. Whoever she was meeting, she didn’t want to put them off her immediately, especially if they had the usual misgivings about Slytherins—unlike her schoolmates, this was somebody she wanted to make a good impression on.

As she watched, Remus waved his wand at the townhouses in front of them—and then, with a rumbling only magic could keep muggles from noticing, the building began to shift, spreading at the center to reveal townhouse number twelve, a bit dirtier than the others and altogether unassuming, were it not for the magical protection keeping it hidden.

“He lives here?” she muttered dryly, raising an eyebrow. “Why all the secrecy?”

Remus gave her a sideways look. “I’ll explain everything inside, Eli,” he told her patiently. “He ought to be out now, to give us time to not rush into everything.”

Eli scowled to herself, scuffing the toe of her trainers on the ground. What with all the furtive looks, you’d think Remus and Mrs. Weasley were hiding something really awful from her, instead of a reclusive individual. But she shoved that thought aside and followed Remus up the stairs and into the townhouse, just shrugging it off—no matter what it might be, she trusted the two, they’d never lead her into harm. So whatever it was, she’d handle it.

“Now, Eli, there are a few things you need to understand, before anything else,” Remus began as they walked, leading the way. “Firstly, the Ministry of Magic—and more specifically, the Minster himself—are very, very deeply in denial about the truth on several accounts. That directly affects anything published in the Daily Prophet as well. I think the most difficult issue to tackle is-”

They stepped into the kitchen and he broke off quite suddenly. Eli didn’t understand why at first, but when she passed the threshold, she stopped dead in her tracks, fear overtaking her motor functions.

Sirius Black, the escaped convict, was standing in the kitchen. And perhaps most shockingly, he seemed _at home_ there, leaning against a wall with a tub of ice cream in his hands and the spoon still dangling from his mouth. “Oh,” he laughed. “I thought you were coming later, Remus.”

Eli just _reacted_. She had her wand in her hand and found herself in front of Remus in seconds, staring down the man she believed to be a mass murderer. “Stay back,” she snarled fiercely.

But to her surprise, Remus caught her wrist and gently pushed her arm down. “It’s all right,” he told her softly. “He’s not who you think he is, I promise. Remember what I was saying, about the Ministry and the Daily Prophet being poor sources of reality? _This_ is exactly what I meant. I was going to explain it to you slowly, but…” He shot Black a sharp look. “Apparently that isn’t going to happen.”

She let him lower her arm, but she didn’t put her wand up just yet. Eli still remembered the fear, sleeping in the Great Hall the night he’d broken into the castle, the Dementors searching the grounds… “But he’s-”

“Not a criminal, dear,” Mrs. Weasley interjected pointedly. “Just not very good with time, I’m afraid. Let Remus explain, I promise, you’re not in any danger.”

Black gave her a sheepish look. “I swear I didn’t murder anyone,” he told her. “That wasn’t me.”

Eli considered the situation as she adjusted her grip on her wand. “So who was it then?” she demanded. “What exactly happened?”

“It was Peter Pettigrew,” Remus explained. “He caused Lily and James Potter’s deaths. Not Sirius.” He sighed and pulled Eli over to the kitchen table, carefully guiding her into a seat and settling down beside her, looking more than a bit weary. “We all thought, for a very long time, that Sirius had given them up—but he turned his duties over to Pettigrew in secret, and _he_ betrayed the Potters to Voldemort.”

“Of course, I took the blame for that,” Sirius grumbled.

Mrs. Weasley crossed her arms at him. “Shush,” she chided, frowning. “You just wait until we’ve got this settled.”

Largely ignoring them, Remus continued, “Sirius came to Hogwarts to _protect_ Harry. Pettigrew had been masquerading as his friend Ron’s rat, for a very long time—he’s an unregistered Animagus, you see—and Sirius spotted him in a news clipping of the Weasleys in Egypt.” Eli knew the photo—Ron had paraded it around in such delight that his family had made the paper. “So he came to search him out and, well…”

“To kill him,” Sirius added bluntly. “He sold out my best friend and his wife, _he’s_ the reason they’re dead. He deserves it.”

Remus shot him a look, but Eli was, despite herself, beginning to get a sense for him. The secrecy, Remus’s reluctance to bring her by, the man’s life as a recluse… It all fit. The Minster hadn’t even believed Harry when he said Voldemort was back, so she didn’t exactly put much stock in him or the Ministry as a whole anymore, not when they could ignore a child’s death and turn away from danger like that. “So…” She passed a hand over her face. “You were wrongfully imprisoned, then? That’s what you’re saying?”

“Damn right I was.”

She drummed her fingers on the table anxiously, trying to piece it all together in her mind. “Then…that night…” Images flashed through her mind—Remus in the hospital wing, the vague stories of a fight of some sort involving Professor Snape, Remus, and Sirius Black, a night spent desperately making Wolfsbane potion… “You’re an Animagus too, aren’t you? That’s how you got around without the Dementors catching you.”

Sirius looked impressed. “Clever, aren’t you? Yes. And James was too. We all did it, to help Remus here with his, ah…” He grinned devilishly. “Furry little problem.” He set the ice cream and spoon aside and crossed his arms, giving her an appraising look. “Still thinking to hex me?”

Eli didn’t back down—she still wasn’t ready to trust him. “I haven’t decided yet,” she told him primly.

With a withering look, Remus sighed, “This is why I had Molly come along—I didn’t want you to feel like you were in any danger. I’m sorry it didn’t work out that way, but I assure you, Sirius is no more a criminal than I am, he’s perfectly harmless.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Dumbledore trusts him implicitly, if that helps any.”

She didn’t want to tell him that it didn’t really help, so she just didn’t comment on that. Instead she considered it for a moment, really thinking it through—it did make sense, in the end… It explained why Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been so hush-hush about that night, how Sirius had stalked about the castle grounds for days and yet hadn’t actually harmed anyone… And while she didn’t mind much how Dumbledore felt about him, she _did_ care what Remus and Mrs. Weasley thought. She trusted _them_ more than practically anyone. They wouldn’t bring her to the home of a mass murderer—unless he _wasn’t_ actually a mass murderer, and they were certain of it.

Finally, making a bit of a show of being very reluctant about it, Eli put her wand away and nodded, accepting it. “All right,” she sighed wearily.

Remus smiled broadly, and Sirius clapped his hands together once. “Right. So now I can ask—why the bloody hell is there a ghost in my house, Moony?”

Eli recoiled at that. “Pardon me?”

“Don’t, Sirius,” Remus growled out in a clear warning.

But Sirius only shrugged in response. “What? She looks like the damn ghost of Evangeline McKinnon, and I _know_ you know it, don’t bother lying.”

Eli felt like all the air had been punched out of her chest. “So it must be true, then,” she whispered, stunned. Remus had sworn he hadn’t mentioned it or even shown Sirius a photo of her, nothing, he’d promised it would be a completely unbiased opinion—and there it was, plain as day. She was the spitting image of a witch they both knew from their childhood, someone they likely hadn’t thought of in years, and yet they’d both placed her immediately. She couldn’t ignore it now.

Mrs. Weasley stepped up and embraced her from behind, giving Sirius a harsh look. “You could’ve had a bit more tact about it,” she scolded fiercely.

But Eli shook her head. “It’s okay, Mrs. Weasley,” she assured her, though she was feeling a bit lightheaded. “It’s been…feeling more and more real, recently, especially after last summer. This just…proves it, that’s all.”

“Proves what, exactly?” Sirius asked curiously. “That you’re Eva’s child? I’d have thought that’d be obvious, you look exactly like her. And that’d make you-”

“ _Sirius_!” Remus thundered, angrier than Eli had ever heard him. Sirius clammed up immediately, averting his gaze, but the damage had been done already. Now totally curious, Eli rose to her feet, staring the two down with all the might she could summon. “What?” she demanded. “What were you going to say?”

Trying to settle things down, Mrs. Weasley reached for her arm and fretted, “Now, Eliana, why don’t we give them a moment to figure this little dispute out, hm?”

But Eli shook her head. “I want to know what’s going on.” She was nothing if not stubborn, and honestly, she felt she deserved answers, after so long. “You both know more than you’re letting on, don’t you?” she asked of Remus and Sirius, the former of whom looked sufficiently chagrinned and more than a bit anxious. “You’ve known far more than you ever wanted to tell me, Remus, I knew that from the moment you mentioned her—Evangeline McKinnon. I want to know the truth. Don’t I deserve that?” She was mortified to find her eyes wanted to fill up with tears, an urge she firmly stomped down. “My parents—my muggle parents, I mean—hardly want anything to do with me, the further I get into the wizarding world. Last summer my father cut off any ability to talk to my friends, banning owls from coming to the house, except on very special occasions. And they’ve hardly written me this year anyway. They don’t even care that I didn’t go home straight away.” Eli gripped the edge of the table, distressed. But she had to finish. _Don’t back down. Not from anything, not anymore._ “In less than a month I’ll be seventeen, of age in this world, and I don’t even know who my real parents are anymore. I want to know where I come from. Ever since I got Sorted into Slytherin I’ve been this—this outcast in my own house, a muggleborn who has no business being in a pureblood house, and maybe I wore it like a badge of honor but I…” She paused a moment, composing herself, keeping the waver out of her voice. “I want to know the truth about where I come from.”

Silence followed her proclamation, with Remus looking deeply troubled, Mrs. Weasley sympathetic, and Sirius thoughtful—yet none of them denied she was right.

“So you were raised as a muggleborn?” Sirius asked finally, curious.

Eli nodded. “As far as my mum and dads told me, I’m their child. If I’m not, then I don’t think they know any different, honestly. I had no idea about any of this until Remus brought it up in my fifth year.”

Shaking her head a bit, Mrs. Weasley took Eli’s shoulders and asked, “Eliana, dear, will you be all right here, do you think? I’ve really got to get home, I’m worried Fred and George will drive Arthur mad asking after you—I know Remus will bring you by when you’re finished here, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

Eli understood immediately—she was tactfully trying to give Eli time to sort this out with Remus and Sirius… _and_ genuinely worried what havoc the twins might wreak in her absence. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” she reassured her. It wasn’t a lie, even, she was surprised to note.

Mrs. Weasley smiled kindly at her. “You come straight to us when you’re through, all right?” Once Eli had nodded her agreement, her wizarding-world-mum hugged her briefly but tightly, and then Disapparated on the spot, leaving Eli to face Remus and Sirius alone—yet _they_ didn’t intimidate her. She was only afraid of what might come out here. But she wanted to know, god, she was tired of just wondering and pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. This had tormented her for far too long now.

“So,” she began, drawing the word out, “who wants to go first?”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Oh, she’s definitely Eva’s daughter. Why didn’t you ever mention her, Moony?”

“For me,” Eli interjected, sparing Remus the explanation. “It was to give me an unbiased opinion on it, someone else’s judgement—since I wasn’t convinced at first.” She sat back down at the table, and Sirius came to sit opposite her, giving her a calculating look.

“I’ve…wanted to go into this slowly,” Remus began after a moment, suddenly quite unable to look her in the eye. “It’s a complicated thing, you see—and difficult. Until I saw you, Eli, I believed the entire McKinnon family had been murdered by Voldemort during the first war. Evangeline’s sister, Marlene, was a close friend as well, a Gryffindor in fact. We were all at school together, you see.”

Sirius took up the story when Remus paused, composing himself. “Back then, a group of people had banded together to fight him. It was called the Order of the Phoenix. Marley and Eva were part of the Order, fought you-know-who alongside all the rest of us. We’d known them since our first year, if you’ll believe it. Marley was very close with Harry’s mum Lily, they shared a dormitory and everything, kept in close contact after school, during the war. The McKinnons were—are, I suppose—half-bloods, something he can’t stand. They were targeted pretty quick, sooner than any of us expected, I think, and one night… One night he went after all of them. They didn’t stand a chance.”

Eli shut her eyes a moment, letting everything tumble into place. “But—but if this all happened during the first war… When exactly?”

“1981,” Sirius told her, a touch solemnly, like he’d figured it out.

She swallowed hard. “That’s after I was born. My birthday’s July twentieth, 1978.”

Sirius shot Remus a pointed look, which went largely ignored. “We graduated from Hogwarts that year,” Sirius explained, still staring him down.

Eli raised an eyebrow. “But that would mean… If she’s my mum, she had me at seventeen, eighteen?” She almost felt like that punched a great big hole in the theory. “That’d mean my father was someone she knew at school… And then she hid me away? From everyone? Wouldn’t any of you have noticed her being…y’know…pregnant?”

“There are plenty of magical ways to hide that,” Sirius told her easily. “And yes, it would mean she hid you. But I’d say for good reason, the war was already underway, you-know-who was searching families out, and especially newborns of mixed blood… Hospitals were raided, families destroyed, all because Death Eaters were out causing death and destruction wherever they went.” He scowled down at the table. “Eva was a Ravenclaw. Sharp as anything. She’d have done everything she could to save her child, even…”

Remus picked the sentence up. “Even sending her own child to be raised by muggles,” he finished wearily.

Eli let out a shuddering breath as the truth settled heavily on her shoulders. “So that’s it, then,” she whispered. “She must have altered their memories, made them think I’m their child…and then…gone back to the war.”

“Eva would’ve been intending to come back and get you,” Remus told her reassuringly, resting a hand on her arm. “She would never have wanted to abandon you completely.”

“I don’t know how to feel about it yet,” Eli murmured. And it was true—this was still just spinning round and round in her mind, all at once dizzying and yet so, so _right_ , somehow…like everything was falling into place. But one thing was still missing, one question that hadn’t been answered. “All of this…okay, it fits, but…” She glanced between the two. “Remus, what did you stop Sirius from saying earlier? None of this was…particularly shocking, exactly. Nothing to make you react so strongly. So what was that?”

Sirius abruptly got to his feet, shaking his head. “Remus, this is on you,” he muttered, heading out. “I’ll be in the drawing room.”

Eli watched him go in surprise, confused. After all that, everything that had come to light, what could make him run from the room so quickly? “I—I don’t understand,” she admitted reluctantly. She didn’t like being this perplexed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, exactly… It’s just…” He sighed so heavily. “Complicated.”

She crossed her arms. “So un-complicate it. Just tell me. After all this, surely nothing can be so bad as finding out that my mum kept me a secret and hid me with a muggle family.”

Remus once again couldn’t meet her eyes, and she noticed he was wringing his hands a little, distraught. What the bloody hell was going on? “Eli, it’s… I’m just not sure how you’ll feel… And to be quite honest, I don’t have any _proof_ , I can’t be certain this is even the truth, it’s just a suspicion… Completely wild…”

“Only it isn’t, or you’d never have mentioned it,” she countered. “Just tell me, please? No more secrets.”

He ran his hands over his face, more stressed than she’d ever seen him. “At first—at first I thought your age must be wrong,” he began anxiously. “That you’d been advanced a few years, that you must be younger than you looked… But you’re turning seventeen next month, and that… It all lines up…”

“I—I don’t follow,” she told him, frowning. “What do you mean, it lines up? Lines up with what?”

Remus stood and crossed the room, pacing near the door as he spoke, still rambling and getting quieter almost every word. “You see, Eva was—I mean—we were… In school, it…” He broke off and spun away from her, taking a moment before he turned and suddenly looked her square in the eyes. “Evangeline and I were together, in school and after, until she passed.”

It took nearly a full minute for the words to really sink in—but when they did, Eli jolted to her feet and pressed both hands to her mouth. “You… Oh my god… Remus… Are you suggesting…” She hardly dared speak the words. Could it be true? If he was right, if…if that genuinely _did_ line up… It would make _so_ much sense, and yet, how could that be possible? Had he known the whole time? Was that why he’d looked after her, why he’d taken such an interest in her? And if so, was that the only reason, or was it personal merit as well? God, she hardly knew what to say, what to think!

“If I’m…correct…” He nodded slowly, cautious and guarded. “It would make me your…your…”

“My father,” Eli finished breathlessly.

Remus nodded again, looking very pale in the face. And then he turned to run from the room. But Eli had considered that he might do that, so she raced over and caught his arm, holding down tight. “Don’t you dare,” she told him firmly. “Remus, _please_ , don’t turn your back on me, not now, after all this.”

He sighed and looked back at her, his expression pained. “You have a father, Eli,” he told her quietly. “And if we’re being completely honest, a werewolf has no business being-”

“Rubbish!” she snapped, almost angry at him. “You of all people should know how I feel about him right now. You know I ran away because of how he treated me, because he—he tried to smother who I am. This isn’t—I don’t know what it all means yet, I’ve only just found out everything, but if you think I wouldn’t—wouldn’t want you as a father, you’re completely mental.” She wiped almost furiously at her eyes, but couldn’t stifle the few tears that slid down her cheeks. “I never felt like I had a family, _never_ , not until I met the Weasleys and not until I met _you_ , all right? You’ve been a far better parent to me than they have recently. I—I never said but they…” Her throat closed up for a moment and Eli wrapped her arms around herself, finally giving into the pain she’d been holding since the holidays. “They didn’t get me anything for Christmas. I didn’t tell a soul because I don’t want pity, but there it is. They didn’t bother. But you did.”

Remus softened then, reaching out and tucking her into his side, though he looked anxious about doing it. “I’m not your parent,” he pointed out reluctantly. “I didn’t raise you, I wasn’t there, I had no idea you even existed until two years ago.”

“But if you had known…” Eli looked up at him, feeling a bit hopeful. “If Evangeline McKinnon had told you about me, would you have wanted to do all that? To be a parent?”

“Well… I was only eighteen then, just a bit older than you are now,” Remus admitted. “But—yes, I do think I would’ve chosen to. But Eli, none of that matters now, you’re nearly of age and you’ve proven that you hardly need a parent, you’re quite self-sufficient, really.”

Eli didn’t know what to say at first. She had so many thoughts in her head it was hard to separate one from another, and what she really wanted was to curl up in bed—any bed would do—and cry for a bit, then have a really long think about everything she’d learned. But there was one thing she could be completely certain of. “Nearly of age or not, I _have_ needed help in the past few years,” she began slowly. “I don’t like admitting I need help with anything, but I absolutely have—when I ran away, when I couldn’t find a memory to support my Patronus, when…when I thought everyone would hate me after the World Cup… And with all that, I never went running to my parents, to the people who raised me. When I’ve needed help, ever since my fifth year I’ve gone to you. And I don’t… It’s not something I’d pretend I’m an expert in, but I don’t think it matters who raised me if the person I look to when I need help is someone else entirely.” She tucked her arms around her middle and stared at the floor, just letting her instincts guide her words. “Whatever Evangeline did to my p—to the Chaplains, it didn’t affect me. She never did anything to make me recognize them as family. I think some part of me has always known I’m different, beyond just being magical. And…given a little time…I think I’d say, at least at this point in my life, _you’re_ the person I’d look to as a parent. So…” Eli laughed nervously. “Take from that what you will.”

For what felt like ages, they were both silent, and Eli was worried she’d scared him away—until he finally laughed warmly and embraced her tightly, pressing one hand to the back of her head. “Whatever comes from this, Eli, I’d be proud to call you my daughter, no matter the circumstances.”

She closed her eyes and smiled. For the moment, that was all she needed.


	13. Ordered Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg thank you guys so much!!! It was so freaking rewarding and relieving that the last chapter went over well, honestly, I about cried over it. So I hope you enjoy this next installment - OotP is beginning and with it, Eli's transition into the main plotline will be cemented. As always, r&r is much appreciated! I love you all :3

Eli stayed at Grimmauld Place that night, in one of the guest rooms Sirius had cleaned up recently—he told her it was hers as long as she liked, and though the house itself was a bit, well, dreary, she didn’t mind the unfamiliar surroundings. Remus explained there was more to tell, but promised it could wait until morning so she could rest and let all the new information settle in her mind, which was perfect for her. She’d thought she’d struggle to find sleep, but found she drifted off almost as soon as she got into bed, falling into a blessedly dreamless sleep and waking sometime in the afternoon the next day completely rested.

She didn’t have spare clothes, so she was going to just put on what she’d had the day before—when she noticed her school trunk sitting in the corner of the room, with a note from Mrs. Weasley atop it. And next to the trunk was a cat carrier, with Jinx sleeping inside. Eli promptly let the little cat out, who sleepily made his way to her bed, while she read the note.

 

_Eliana,_

_I had your trunk brought over this morning. We’ll be staying at Grimmauld Place for most of the summer anyway, so I thought I’d just get a head start for you!_

_-Mrs. W_

 

Thoroughly touched, Eli hurried to sort through the trunk until she found something appropriate—a grey checked dress covered with a little white cardigan, some white tights with vine patterns down the side, and a pair of black flats. It felt in keeping with the mood of the house, really. She then tied her hair in a high ponytail and headed out, a bit warily, as she still didn’t feel entirely at ease there.

She didn’t find anyone in the kitchen—just about the only room she knew at this stage—but she raided the pantry and found supplies to make eggs and toast. Though she felt a bit awkward about just using someone else’s food, she’d been far too wired to eat the night before and was too hungry to care.

“Ah, good, you found the pantry.” Sirius grinned at her as he strolled into the kitchen. “I told Remus you’d manage just fine on your own, I’m not that poorly stocked, but he insisted on going to buy more supplies.” He shook his head in amusement, giving her a knowing look. “Trying to prove himself, I’d say.”

Eli wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Sirius yet. She’d spent several years being inherently afraid of him, thinking he was a mass murderer, but from what she understood now he was one of Remus’s best friends from school, wholly trustworthy and apparently had fought against Voldemort in the first Wizarding War. The least she could do, she figured, was give him the benefit of the doubt. “He doesn’t need to go to any trouble for me,” she agreed with a shrug.

“He means well, you know,” he told her, taking a seat a little bit away from her. “All last night he was worrying about how differently he needs to act now, all sorts of rubbish.”

She raised an eyebrow, surprised. “He doesn’t need to do anything,” she grumbled, stabbing a bite of egg with her fork.

Sirius laughed. “Well, I did try telling him that, but he’s never been the best listener, Moony hasn’t. And he cares, that’s where it all comes from. He’d mentioned you, you know—not as Eva’s daughter but as a student of his.” He leaned in and tilted his head to one side, reminding her so starkly of a dog she almost laughed despite herself. “Did you _really_ brew a decent Wolfsbane potion in your fifth year?”

“Decent?” Eli snapped, indignant. “I’d say it was more than decent!”

He was unaffected, though, just grinning away. “So you did. Well, I know where you got that. Eva was brilliant with potions, always top of the class—well, her and Severus, I’ll grant the arse that much at least.”

Eli stored that information away. Her mother had been good with potions, more than good… So it was maybe something that had run in the family, or at least something she inherited. No wonder it felt so natural. “I… Why do you call him _Moony_ , Sirius?” she asked curiously. It had been bothering her since the night before. “Is it just the whole werewolf thing?”

“Ah! Well, you see, the four of us—being myself, Remus, James, and Peter Pettigrew—all went by nicknames for very specific reasons. We needed sort of…code names to talk about being Animagi without alerting anyone to what was actually happening, so we came up with pseudonyms and they’ve just stuck, honestly.” With the grandest bow he could manage while sitting, Sirius proclaimed, “Padfoot, at your service. Remus was Moony, of course, and then James was Prongs—he transfigured into a stag, see. And Peter was Wormtail. Even goes by that now, I believe.”

“No.” Eli dropped her fork in shock. “You—you can’t be. You must be joking!” She laughed brightly as it all fell together. “The Marauders! Bloody hell, you’re one of the Marauders! Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs! Oh my god, Fred and George are going to go _mad_ when they hear!”

“Now how exactly do you know what we called ourselves?” Sirius asked wryly.

Eli beamed at him, elated. This was a mystery that had followed them all through school, from the very first year, never actually knowing who the Marauders were, the creators of _the_ map. “Our first year, the twins had me distract Filch so they could sneak into his office and look for anything useful he might’ve had hidden away. They found this bit of parchment, and well, we sort of accidentally got it to work, and it was-”

“The Marauder’s Map!” Sirius looked so incredibly excited. “You found it! Well done, blimey, I thought it was gone forever when Filch snatched it from us fifth year. So it still works?”

“As far as I know… The twins gave it to Harry a couple years back so he could sneak to Hogsmeade, since his muggle family wouldn’t sign his permission slip,” Eli admitted, wondering if he’d be disappointed they didn’t have it anymore. “He’s never said anything about it not working, though.”

Sirius sat back in his chair, amazed. “My godson has it. Naturally, of course he still does.”

His _what_? “He’s—Harry’s your godson?” Eli asked in astonishment. “I had no idea.” When Sirius nodded, she scowled deeply and demanded, “Then why’s he still living with those wretched muggles? One year Fred and George helped Ron break him out, as he’d got bars put on his windows. They sound awful.”

“Right now, Dumbledore believes it’s safer for him,” he explained reluctantly. “And it…would be hard to explain, given that the world still thinks I’m a criminal.”

“But that’s inane. Isn’t it? He could be with family! I mean…” She caught herself, realized what she’d said, and clarified a bit. “Someone who actually treats him like family. How is this way better? Besides, I thought this place was supposed to be safe?”

Remus walked in then, and happened to catch the end of the conversation. “It is safe—but we’re reinstating the Order of the Phoenix, and it’s going to become far more dangerous very fast.”

Her first instinct was to keep defending Harry, to fight for him to be among decent people—but she was much too focused on the bombshell he’d just dropped to focus on that. “Wait, you are?” she asked, rising to her feet. “To fight you-know-who?”

“We have been already, ever since Harry came back from the graveyard,” he explained, his voice cautiously even, like he _knew_ what she was going to say next.

“I want to join.”

Sirius looked pleased, while Remus looked just…well…afraid. “Eli, no, absolutely not. You’re far too young and-”

She cut him off quickly. “Too young? How old were you two when you joined up? Seventeen, eighteen at the most, right? I’ll be seventeen next month, legally of age. And I want to help. I’m not going to sit on my arse and pretend this isn’t happening, Remus, I’m not going to be helpless.”

“Every bit like her mum, isn’t she?” Sirius snickered. “Though technically, you can’t officially join until you’ve graduated. Dumbledore’s rule. Still…she could help, you know.”

“Sirius, don’t-”

But his friend ploughed right on over him. “Not at any official level, but from what I’ve heard, you want to be a Healer, right?” Eli nodded quickly, listening to him as intently as she could with Remus looking more and more agitated every moment. “We haven’t had a Healer in the Order ever, I don’t think. I’m sure you’d be able to help us somehow.”

Eli perked right up at that. Yes, that sounded absolutely perfect—she wanted to fight too, naturally, but to work alongside the Order even from a distance, to know her place after school… “I’d love to. I still want to fight and everything, but I’d absolutely love to work the Healing side of things.”

“It means you’ve got to finish school,” Remus pointed out, exasperated.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I wasn’t planning differently. I just…” She sighed wearily. “I don’t want to be useless, that’s all. Last year, so many horrible things happened and I couldn’t do _anything_. I never want to feel that way again.”

Apparently softening a bit, Remus reached out and squeezed her shoulder gently. “We’ll find something for you to help with. All right?”

Eli nodded, pleased he wasn’t trying to keep her from it—that was good enough, for the time being. She’d argue the rest later. He seemed glad too, and recruited her to help him restock Sirius’s pantry and fridge with the groceries he’d gotten, which kept her hands busy at least if not her mind. The three eased into casual chatter, thankfully, distracting Eli from the thought of joining the Order, though she knew she’d end up focusing on it again.

_Crack!_

The telltale sound of someone Apparating into the front hall reached them, and Remus pulled his wand out even as Eli went to see who it was. He stopped her with a firm arm in front of her, shook his head, and stepped into the hall himself. But she wasn’t going to be deterred just by that. Eli followed him out, standing behind him uncertainly as she wasn’t entirely sure why he was being so…defensive. Probably due to this place becoming headquarters for the Order, though, if she were being honest.

But once she saw who was there, Eli laughed and stepped past him, right into George’s open arms. “I didn’t know you were coming yet!” she told him, grinning up at him brightly.

“Arthur wants us here as soon as possible,” Mrs. Weasley explained, smiling wearily. Fred had come too, and Ginny, but they were hanging back to let Eli and George have their little moment—a sweet gesture, really. But she did notice that Mrs. Weasley and Remus were eyeing them a touch suspiciously, so she decided, well, might as well get it out there.

“You can stop staring at us like that,” she told the two dryly. “Yes, you’re right. But it isn’t that big a deal.”

“It’s absolutely that big a deal!” Mrs. Weasley protested—but she was grinning ear to ear. “Oh, this is wonderful, I’m so happy for you both!” She hugged Eli tightly, warmly, and Eli had to fight not to blush at the display. George had been right, his mother was completely thrilled, she’d had nothing to worry about… And yet it was a _huge_ weight off her shoulders.

Sirius stuck his head into the hall, checking who it was first before stepping out. “Ah, Molly. Good. I’ve had Kreacher clean out a few rooms upstairs, should be enough to fit everyone but if there are any problems, well…” He scrunched his face up. “I’ll have a word with him.” Nodding at the twins, he added, “You two are on the third floor, second door on the right in the hallway to the left… Er… Eli… You know where it is, right? Across from yours?”

She laughed and nodded—that had been an adventure, Sirius showing her to her room the night before. It was his family’s home and having not been there in a while, he was still getting reacquainted with the layout. “And Ginny’s is on the second floor, two doors from the bathroom. I’ll show them up.”

“So…” Fred began as they left the other adults behind, dragging the word out, “what exactly did we miss in the past twenty-four hours?”

Eli winced. She just didn’t quite know how to answer— _so_ much had happened, so much had changed… And yet, after really letting it all settle in her mind, she felt more whole than she had in a long time, maybe in her entire life. It all felt so natural, like a role she just slipped into effortlessly. “Sort of…nothing…and sort of everything,” she told them cryptically.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Right. Makes complete sense.”

“Well it’s…” Eli groaned and led them into what was to be the twins’ room, shutting the door once they’d all gotten inside. “It’s complicated to explain, but it doesn’t _feel_ complicated, that’s the problem. It’s all very easy for me now.” She sank onto one of the beds and prepared herself to explain it to them—she didn’t mind telling Ginny at all, and she’d already known she’d have to tell the twins, so it was better to do it all at once and not have to tell anyone else but Simon. The others could hear about all of it in time, as it got mentioned, they didn’t need to hear it straight from her.

“Did something happen?” George asked a bit worriedly, sitting down beside her. Ginny made a doe-eyed face at them and he tossed a pillow at her, which she deflected easily, grinning.

Eli shook her head. “Not like that. I just found out a few things, that’s all.” She sucked in a deep breath. She’d have to do it fast, like a plaster. “Sirius and Remus sort of…confirmed that I’m not muggleborn.”

“What?” Ginny stared at her in shock. “But—your parents…”

“Aren’t my parents,” she murmured. “My mum was a witch named Evangeline McKinnon, she and her sister Marlene were part of the original Order of the Phoenix—they went to school with Remus and Sirius, and Harry’s mum and dad too. Apparently she had an affinity for potions too, funnily enough.” Eli shrugged, trying to play it off despite their shocked faces.

George in particular looked concerned. “And…you’re all right with that?” he hedged nervously.

“I am, actually.” And it was true—no lying necessary. “My parents—the ones who raised me, I mean—aren’t turning out to be particularly accepting of me as a witch, in the end. I know they’ve tried but they just aren’t going to get there. I’ve been…growing apart from them, you could say. And whatever spell Evangeline put on them, it didn’t affect me. I think part of me has always known I’m different from them.” Deciding to keep her _other_ parent’s identity a secret for the time being, she stood up and nodded at Ginny. “Want me to show you your room, Ginny? I picked it out for you, actually, Sirius wanted to put you on this floor but I thought you’d like a little more privacy, honestly. So your brothers will all be up here, and you and Hermione can be down a floor.”

Ginny grinned widely at her. “Perfect.”

Eli showed her the room, and the nearby bathroom as well, which was all she had time for before Mrs. Weasley asked Ginny to come and help with dinner, leaving Eli to her own devices. She assumed her wizarding-world-mum was just being soft on her after everything that had happened, but it was nice to have a little space, in the end.

“You didn’t tell us everything.”

Or not.

Sighing, Eli turned to see George leaning against the banister behind her, giving her a calculating look. Fred was only a few steps away from his twin, too, bearing a matching expression. “And what exactly am I omitting?” she asked curiously, though she knew the answer.

“If you’ve figured out that she’s your mum, then who was your father?” George asked, going straight to the point.

Eli swallowed hard. God, this was harder than revealing that she’d been born from a witch—Evangeline McKinnon was long since passed, it wasn’t something she had to _face_ , exactly… But this… Still, the twins had been involved with this part of her life ever since she’d found out, they’d discussed it with her, supported her… So how could she not tell them? Reluctantly, she pulled them into the nearest room, a sitting room only partially cleaned up by Sirius’s house elf Kreacher, and shut the door tight behind her. “Will one of you charm that door so nobody can listen in?” she asked, a bit frustrated that she still wasn’t of age. It was embarrassing asking for help with simple spells at this point.

Fred quickly pulled his wand and flicked it at the door, sealing it from letting any noise out, and then crossed his arms expectantly. “Well?” he asked.

“Are you going to tell us?” George added on, a touch more demandingly than his twin.

Eli sighed and rubbed at her eyes, suddenly very exhausted. “Look, you have to promise not to make a big fuss about this, all right? It’s still something I’m figuring out how to handle, and it’s a very new concept, so if you go poking your noses in it’ll only cause problems. Understand?

They exchanged a look, clearly deciding between themselves, before they agreed in unison, “We promise.”

She nodded. It wasn’t really enough, overall, she’d known them for long enough to see them go back on plenty of promises—but never anything truly serious, and she hoped they’d see just how serious this was once she said it. “Well…see…” Eli sighed and looked away from their curious faces. “It’s Remus, all right? As far as we know—and mind you, this is all conjecture but it’s the only thing that lines up properly—Remus is my father.”

“You’re joking,” Fred breathed, astonished. “He’s your dad? But— _how_?”

“He didn’t know?” George asked in disbelief, a bit more grounded. “You’re suggesting he never knew, all this time? Otherwise you’d be cross with him for never being in your life, I know that.”

Eli twisted one corner of her mouth up. “Evangeline hid it from everyone. Hid _me_ from everyone, I mean. He had no idea I even existed until he came to teach at Hogwarts, honestly. And we’re still… That is to say… We haven’t exactly figured out the dynamic yet, that’s the thing. He’s far better than my father—I mean, Maxwell Chaplain—but it’s not that simple. You see why you can’t tell anyone? I’ll let Simon in on it when he comes here, but for now, it’s just…too new.”

“It’s a good thing though, isn’t it?” Fred asked curiously. “You like him well enough, I know he’s helped you out a few times. Hasn’t he? Like that time you ran away?”

“And he came racing out to find you at the World Cup, too. Honestly, you could do worse. He really seems to care about you.” Looking thoughtful, George inquired, “How does _he_ feel about it, though? It’s all well and good that you know now, but it doesn’t mean anything unless he’s on the same page.”

God, she didn’t think she’d ever get over how sweet he was to worry himself over her so much. “He told me if he’d known about me, he would’ve wanted to be involved in my life. That’s enough for me.” She reconsidered her words, though, after a moment. “Well, that and how he acts towards me, really. But honestly, I… I thought this would be harder, I struggled with it for a while, but… Now that it’s all out, it feels just sort of, well, _right_ , and I’m not really having a rough time with it.” The only problem now was, well…how to handle this with the people who had raised her. But she didn’t voice that. It was nobody’s problem but her own.

\--

Impatient paws on her face woke Eli up the morning of her seventeenth birthday. Laughing, she nudged Jinx away and sat up, rubbing at her eyes and absently petting the cat. Somehow, even though the day was supposed to be good, she just felt…like staying in bed, really. It took her a moment to figure out why, but when it hit her, she sank onto the floor beside the bed and pressed her hands against her face.

Her parents—Caroline and Maxwell Chaplain, she meant—had ignored her birthday. But why? Yes, she’d found out the truth of her origins, but…but they didn’t know. For all they knew, she was their biological daughter, no questions asked. Yet they had been growing steadily apart from her, and after they’d ignored Christmas, she’d thought at least they’d pay attention to her birthday… Why would they ignore it? Unless…they really _didn’t_ want her as their daughter anymore. Eli didn’t want it to hurt, but it did, it made her chest feel so tight she almost couldn’t breathe.

Still… She couldn’t sit in her room all day. It wouldn’t be long before _someone_ came looking for her. So Eli forced herself to get up and get dressed, plaiting her hair over one shoulder for simplicity’s sake before heading downstairs. Jinx trailed behind her, chasing her feet a little, but he was starting to fall out of some of his old kitten habits so it wasn’t too bad.

As it turned out, the day wasn’t a loss like it had felt in the morning—Mrs. Weasley had even baked her a cake, and she got some lovely presents, including several ingredients for her Healer’s kit that she was slowly filling out, and a beautiful little strand of pearls from George, though she had _no_ idea how he’d afforded it. Remus gave her a book on advanced potion-making, and a special little book meant to write her own recipes in, which was charmed so she could title her potions and then just speak the name to make the book open to that page. Everyone pitched in to make her feel better, as it seemed they were fairly conscious that the Chaplains had ignored her birthday, and it worked—by the end of the night, Eli actually felt happy.

The rest of the summer passed in what felt like no time at all. Eli stayed with the Weasleys at Grimmauld Place, and Hermione after she came right at the end of June, as the big old house became more alive every day. Anyone who wasn’t in the Order spent most of their free time cleaning, simply because the place hadn’t been cleaned in god only knew how long—and it gave them an excellent excuse whenever they were trying to listen in on Order meetings. Soon after Hermione arrived, Simon came to stay too. Rosalyn was on a trip with their mum, one he’d begged out of to come spend time with everyone else, which Fred seemed inordinately delighted by. Not that Eli could prove anything.

One morning, though, at the beginning of August, Eli came downstairs to find a very somber mood. “Please tell me no one died,” she deadpanned.

Remus gave her a pointed look, but sighed anyway and shook his head. “No. But we’ve received word that Harry was attacked by Dementors, near his aunt and uncle’s home.”

“Is he all right?” Ron asked as he trailed Eli into the kitchen, Simon and the twins close behind.

“Yes, he’s fine, he fought them off…” Remus still looked troubled, though. “But the Ministry has expelled him from Hogwarts.”

“What?!” Now it was Hermione, with Ginny at her side, sounding furious. “They can’t do that, surely they don’t have the grounds! If he was fighting _Dementors_ then it’s hardly a breach of any laws, he was only defending himself!”

Remus held up a hand, staying her tirade. “Yes, which is why Dumbledore is there now, petitioning them to have a hearing first. And, well, since it’s Dumbledore he’ll get it. For right now, we’re going to bring Harry here, tonight. A few of us are going to make sure he gets here without incident, and he’ll be safe here until we get this all sorted out.”

“I could go,” Eli offered, feeling George’s hand slip around her wrist as she spoke.

“We’ve got plenty of help, don’t worry,” Remus assured her gently. “But if you’ll be on call tonight in case of any accidents, we’d all appreciate it.”

She bobbed her head quickly, pleased he wasn’t just brushing her off. He’d been quite staunchly against her helping the Order thus far, though he’d promised to find her some way to help—maybe this was his way of including her, or at least trying to. “I’d love to.” Appeased for the time being, Eli joined the others for breakfast, watching the way George’s eyes followed her. So, she grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the kitchen, down the hall just far enough to be out of earshot, and asked, “What’s going on?”

He gave her an innocent look. “What do you mean?”

Eli rolled her eyes, exasperated. “I’m not an idiot, George. And you’re not a very good liar, you know. It’ll be easier if you just tell me what’s wrong, instead of making me pester you for ages, until you get cross with me.”

George sighed, but nodded anyway, leaning into the wall across from her and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I don’t want to lose you,” he murmured after a moment. “I love how…how passionate you are, you know that, but this—war…” He scowled deeply. “You’re already volunteering to go on these dangerous missions, and if Remus hadn’t put you off, you’d have gone, wouldn’t you? I’m scared for you, Eli, I’m afraid you’ll go on some mission for the Order and never come back.”

Her first reaction was to be frustrated, but she held back a moment, thinking. “I would’ve gone,” she admitted quietly. “I’m not purposefully putting myself in danger, it isn’t like that. I just don’t want to be useless.”

“But you aren’t, how could you be? You’re becoming a Healer, you’re going to help. It just worries me how quickly you jump into it, that’s all.” George finally peeled off the wall and stepped close, pulling her into his arms and tucking her head under his chin. “Remember how cross you got with me and Fred, when we put our names into the Goblet of Fire?”

“How could I forget?” she grumbled.

George leaned back and smirked at her. “See? You were so frustrated that we’d put ourselves in danger. And I know I laughed it off at first, but seeing what happened in the Tournament, well… It puts things into perspective a bit. You were right. We can’t just go jumping into everything without thinking.”

Feigning shock, Eli gasped, “You, thinking before you do something? Preposterous.”

“Hey!” he laughed, ruffling her hair. “It’s been known to happen!” A bit more solemnly, he added, “Just—think it through next time, please? For me?”

Eli wrinkled her nose. She nodded, though, agreeing. He was right, really. There was no need to jump at the dangerous stuff, not just yet—there was a whole year of Hogwarts left to get through before she ought to consider that sort of thing. For the time being, it would be more beneficial to wait it out, train herself up, and really join the fight when she could actually help. “Fine,” she sighed, tapping his nose. “More thinking, less jumping into the madness.”

“Excellent.” Then George turned them on the spot, Disapparating and reappearing in the twins’ bedroom moments later.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “And why exactly are we here?”

George smirked and rested his hands on her hips. “Well, seeing as we’ve already skipped out from breakfast and no one came after us… I figured we should take advantage of the situation.”

Heat pooled in her stomach as he leaned over her, and Eli didn’t protest when her back hit the wall. “Just-” She pressed her hand into his chest, giving him a wry look. “Remember Fred could pop in here any moment, please?”

“Naturally.”

She giggled as he swooped in and kissed her then, letting him chase everything else from her head. This, she thought, was something she’d never get tired of.


	14. All Out with the Washing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am a touch late - I'm trying to update every week but Wednesday was July 4th and since I'm in America, we had family celebrations and such. Also, kittens. Kittens are here. So that has been a HUGE distraction. Anyway, thank you SO so much for sticking with me, I have little else to say but... Here we go.

“No, honestly Harry, they’re hardly telling us anything.” Eli crossed her arms and eyed the twins irritably. “Don’t listen to these two. Mrs. Weasley won’t let anyone who hasn’t graduated near the meetings, so we only know what we’ve learnt from eavesdropping, which doesn’t always go well, really.” She gave the younger boy an encouraging smile. “But we’ll tell you everything we know, I swear.”

He didn’t look appeased, but Eli was glad to see she’d diffused the tension a bit. She’d been practicing a few healing spells, testing how they worked against the twins’ newest candy creations—which they were testing on themselves—when they’d heard shouting from the floor down. She and Simon hadn’t reacted fast enough to Apparate down before the twins, but they’d gotten there in time to help smooth things over, at least. Harry was furious he’d been kept out of the loop all summer, which she understood, but Eli figured a practical approach was best.

“C’mon, if you’re really angry, let’s go see what we can hear,” she suggested gamely. “They’re meeting in a few minutes.”

Of course, that would’ve been a brilliant plan had Remus not come jogging up the stairs looking for Eli right as they were lowering one of the twins’ Extendable Ears—a new invention—down the stairwell.

“Ah… I think I’ll just…” Remus grinned conspiratorially, shocking everyone but Eli. She hadn’t gotten around to telling the twins his identity as one of the Marauders just yet. “I’ll forget I saw anything. Anyway, Eli, Kingsley’s brought a package for you from the Ministry—he says it’s important, so they’re stalling the meeting just a bit.”

Eli blinked, surprised. “A package from the Ministry?”

He glanced at the others around her, furtively, and she understood immediately. “Right. Don’t want to hold things up.” Eli dropped a quick kiss onto George’s cheek before following Remus—her _father_ , she reminded herself forcibly—down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Kingsley Shacklebolt was waiting for her. She’d met him a few times, only in passing, but she liked him well enough in the sense that he spoke to her like an adult.

“Miss Chaplain,” he greeted kindly. “I apologize for not bringing this sooner—it was supposed to be delivered on your seventeenth birthday, but we’ve been, well…”

“Busy,” she supplied. “It’s all right, Mr. Shacklebolt, I understand. I’m just…confused. Why would the Ministry have a package for me?” Eli settled into a chair beside him, watching Remus hover uncertainly for a moment before she beckoned for him to sit next to her, ending his dilemma.

Mr. Shacklebolt inclined his head a bit. “Well…it was left with our legal department, you see.” He hesitated, then dropped a complete bombshell. “Left by Evangeline McKinnon.”

Eli felt her stomach drop out. Her _mother_. If she’d needed any further confirmation, this was it—why else would the witch leave her something with the Ministry’s legal department? And what the bloody hell _was_ it, something so important it needed to be in their care, but not delivered until she came of age? “I…oh.” She hardly knew what to say. “Do you…have any clue what it might be?”

“No. But we had specific instructions to lock it away deep in our vaults, and thankfully, you-know-who didn’t search that far during the first war, otherwise it could’ve been lost forever.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, weathered package, wrapped in unassuming brown paper and tied with a neat bow of twine, labeled with a Ministry stamp on the side. _Will 267-B. To be delivered 20/7/1995._

Almost reverently, Eli took the parcel and set it on the table, eyeing it with wonder. She almost wanted to race up to her room and open it in private, but something told her it had to be witnessed by someone from the Ministry, for official reasons—and besides, she didn’t necessarily need to hide it from Remus. So without letting herself hesitate again, Eli untied the twine and deftly slit the tape with her fingernail, pulling a small wooden box out. Lightly ornate yet rather unassuming, the box bore a little gold filigree around the edges, and a gently rounded shape, sitting on four little wooden feet. It had a keyhole at the front, but when Eli lifted the lid experimentally, it swung open easily.

With her heart beating fast in her chest, Eli began pulling items from inside, setting them on the table one by one until the box was empty. An envelope with her name on it, a second envelope labeled _2_ , a small jewelry box, and a little clear vial with a silver and crystal stopper full of a shimmery silver liquid. _Memories_ , she realized quickly. But there wasn’t a Pensieve at Grimmauld Place, so she’d just have to wait on that. First, the letter.

Conscious of Mr. Shacklebolt’s eyes on her, and Remus’s white-knuckled grip on the table, Eli opened the first envelope and unfolded a letter, penned in a beautiful script, yellowed with age but completely untouched.

 

_My darling daughter,_

_This was never how I wanted your life to be. I hope you’ll never have to read this letter, but if it does get to you, it means I didn’t survive the war, or otherwise found it impossible to come retrieve you. And I wanted to, even right now I can hardly sleep because I know you’re just a few towns away, in the home of a muggle family, and you might grow up never knowing where you came from. I can’t hardly bear it._

_But know this, my love. Everything I have done has been to protect you. He-who-must-not-be-named is seeking out half-blood or lesser children, taking them or killing them outright, and it’s only getting worse—so I made the decision to hide you from everyone, even your father, to steal your birth records from the Ministry and send you away to protect you. I’m lucky, I can make the right potions and perform the right spells to keep you safe, to give you what I hope will be a good life. Magic cannot create love, but I believe the family I chose are good people, they’ll come to love you on their own. I know it._

_This box contains everything I can safely set aside of your past, our past. My sister would notice if too much went missing, but I’ll do what I can to give you a connection to your family. It’s all I can do, as a mother, to make sure you know how loved you are. In this box you’ll find a locket that belonged to my mother, with a family portrait inside—it’s got me and my sister, Marlene, as well as our parents, Elias and Aubriella McKinnon, and mum’s parents Darlene and Sebastian Rosewood. Marley, my sister—your aunt—will be cross that I’ve ‘lost’ it, but I want you to have it and that’s far more important. You’ll also find your original, official birth records, the ones I took from the Ministry. It has your true name, and though I’m sure you have a different one now, I thought you should see it. Be sure never to give them the original, just in case. Your circumstances will be unique enough that it shouldn’t be an issue._

_And yes, you’re my daughter so you’ll be wondering, it does have your father’s name on there. He has no clue you exist, and I’ll leave it to you to decide if you wish to tell him, but I can tell you he’s an absolutely wonderful person, no matter what he says, and I love him with all my heart. No matter what’s happened by the time you get this, I can promise you, sweetheart—you’re the daughter of two people who were very much happy and in love, who would have raised you in a loving, safe home if we had the chance._

_The last item you’ll find is a vial of my memories. I wanted you to have something real, something tangible to remember me by—to hear your mother say some important things, and to see the truth of where you come from. To me, nothing could be as real as seeing it for yourself, having those memories to hold onto. I hope you will forgive me for leaving you, for sending you away… I only wanted the best for you, always. And I can only hope you’re happy, wherever you are, safe and loved and everything I ever would have given you._

_I love you, Eli. Never forget that._

_Your mother,_

_Evangeline McKinnon_

 

Eli didn’t realize she was crying until Remus tentatively offered her a tissue, which she accepted belatedly, wiping at her eyes as she set the parchment down. Her mother hadn’t _abandoned_ her, she’d only been protecting her… She’d picked a family for her, given her not only a given name but a nickname too, the one she clung to so forcefully—and she…she _loved_ her. After thinking Evangeline McKinnon had abandoned her, had thrown her away to live with muggles like she didn’t matter, it was startling to see that it was exactly the opposite.

But she still had more to open.

Fingers shaking, Eli opened the jewelry box to find the necklace her letter had described. It was a beautiful silver locket, inscribed with an ornate calligraphic _M_ on the front, and when Eli opened it, she nearly gasped—she was greeted with a portrait of a sweet, warm little family. At the back stood two older people, whom she knew must be the Rosewoods, her great-grandparents. Darlene and Sebastian. They smiled serenely, entirely at peace, and Eli couldn’t help but note the vibrant eyes Darlene had. The same exact shade as her own.

Standing in front of them was a woman with those same bright green eyes, a crooked smile, and short brown hair curling just under her chin. That must be Aubriella, her grandmother. Beside Aubriella stood Elias McKinnon, with dark eyes and the same pale blond hair Eli herself had been given. He had an arm around Aubriella’s shoulders, and he was giving her the most adoring smile, even though she was completely unaware of it.

Marlene McKinnon was a younger version of the witch Eli had seen in Mrs. Weasley’s photo—taller than her sister, with her mother’s dark hair and green eyes, sporting a bright smile and winking every so often, giggling as she kept trying to steal her sister’s scarf.

And Evangeline McKinnon just smirked and deflected her sister’s playful attempts, grinning out at Eli like she knew exactly who she was—and how couldn’t she? They shared the same long blonde curls, unruly and yet pretty enough, the same green eyes, the same faintly crooked smile with a dimple on one side, the same freckle at the tip of one eyebrow… Yet here, with a photo of Evangeline a bit younger, closer to Eli’s own age, she could see some differences, really place them… The shape of her face, the dark rings around her irises, something about the shape of her nose… Just enough to place someone else there, to separate them as mother and daughter.

Almost on instinct, Eli passed the locket to Remus to let him see. After all, whether or not she was actually his daughter—something she was about to confirm, actually—he had loved Evangeline, and she knew he’d like to see it.

Then it was time for the envelope with a _2_ penned on the front. Eli picked it up tentatively, realizing this right here was going to be it, for real this time. Remus and Sirius had only been able to offer conjecture, to suggest based on their experiences… But this was official, coming directly from Evangeline herself. Whatever was written here was the truth, assessed by the Ministry and so important her mother had stolen it and hidden it away so it wouldn’t be tampered with or destroyed.

_Don’t be pathetic. You want to know this, you know you do. Just open it._

Eli steeled herself and opened the envelope, sliding out a small sheet of parchment stamped with the Ministry’s official seal. It was magically protected, she knew that, so nobody could replicate it…which meant this was actually, genuinely _real_. God. She took a deep breath to steady herself, keep from trembling, and unfolded the paper.

At the top it listed the date, her birthday—July twentieth, 1978—in big, bold letters. Below that, her eyes drifted, searching.

_Mother’s Name: McKinnon, Evangeline Katerina._

_Father’s Name: Lupin, Remus John._

Eli let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. There it was. The absolute proof. She felt tears pooling at the corners of her eyes, and wiped them away as subtly as she could as she glanced over at Remus furtively. He was too engrossed in the locket to notice, thankfully, so Eli could take a moment to really let it wash over her. She had a family, a real one. Somehow, by some crazy twist of fate or luck, whatever it was, she’d actually _found_ her father before her mother had intended. And he’d already accepted her, even without being certain, even knowing she was a Slytherin, knowing she struggled with fire when she got upset… Maxwell and Caroline Chaplain had grown to love her when she was little, just like Evangeline hoped, but there was no substitute for a real parent, for someone who wasn’t forced to care for you by magic—it was just more genuine that way, nothing could feign love, real love.

She wiped at her eyes again, struggling not to get overcome with her emotions, and continued reading the paper.

But then Eli sat back, shocked. She hadn’t known what she expected, really, but whatever she’d dreamt up wasn’t what she’d read on the record.

“Eli?” Remus hedged, reaching for her but then seeming to think better of it.

She let out a slow, unsteady breath, and passed him the paper. Under no circumstances could she voice this, not because it hurt, not because she was unhappy…but because it was quite suddenly _his_ decision as well, what she shared.

Because on that parchment, on her official birth record, her name was listed as _Eliana Aubrielle McKinnon Lupin_.

And her first, gut reaction to the name was to turn her nose up at it. She’d been Eli Chaplain for her whole life, but now her real name sounded so…fairytale, like something straight from a story, too pretty for a Slytherin Keeper who cursed anyone who treated her poorly, who prided herself on being fierce and cunning and brash enough to turn most people away, when she wanted to. Eliana was a name she’d tolerated most of her life, only when necessary, but… _Eliana Aubrielle_ was so bloody princess-like that she wanted to screw her face up. Even if she was apparently named after her grandmother.

But her second reaction overwhelmed the first petty one. Her surname. She had her father’s surname. Not her mother’s, not a hyphenated version, but she truly carried her father’s surname! Each part was written in its own line, to avoid confusion, appearing as _Lupin, Eliana Aubrielle McKinnon_ , just to really drive it home. It had been Evangeline’s right, she supposed, but it almost felt unfair to saddle Remus with her as a named child when he’d only known her for a couple years, only been certain of their relation for such a brief period… She had no idea if he’d even _want_ her to carry the name. And anyway, she was registered as a muggleborn named Eliana Margery Chaplain, so if she didn’t actually submit a copy for the Ministry’s official records, nobody would be any the wiser.

Yet she’d handed Remus the paper, offering him equal say in the decision. Eli knew it was the right thing do to, though selfishly she almost wished she’d kept it to herself.

“I—I’m not sure what to say,” Remus murmured, after a time, gently folding her birth record in half and placing it on the table. He gave her a weak smile, but Eli read into it in seconds, first frozen in place with horror, until she found the strength to rise from the table and grab the record and slip the locket over her head.

“Don’t,” she muttered. “You don’t need to say anything. I understand.” Eli turned sharply to Mr. Shacklebolt. “Thank you for bringing this by,” she told him, a bit too stiffly, but he seemed to understand she was struggling with something and didn’t act offended in the least.

She spun to face Remus again, who was sputtering a bit, trying to find his words. “Just—don’t,” she managed, though her throat felt like it was closing up. “I get it, all right? Just forget about it.”

Eli was racing through the front hall of Grimmauld Place before she even registered that she’d moved, but she realized partway down that it was a stupid, stupid idea to just leave out the front door—where would she even go? And anyway, they’d catch her in a heartbeat. So she sprinted until she reached the threshold and then Disapparated on the spot, ignoring whoever was chasing her down.

She reappeared, unsteady and with her vision blurred by tears, behind a bush in St. James’s Park. It was before sunset, with few enough people about that her arrival went unnoticed, thankfully, so she hadn’t caused any problems yet.

A bit blindly, she set off along the nearest path, following it until she reached a secluded bench by the water, and sank onto it weakly. Eli fell apart the moment she sat down, bursting into weak, bitter sobs and trying to bury them in her palms. He didn’t want her. Not like this. Maybe the concept had been fine, the _idea_ of having a daughter, but once it was there in front of his face, proven beyond any doubt…he’d turned away from her.

Eli didn’t know how she’d been so stupid. Had she actually believed this would be a good thing to someone with an established life, a life she had no part in? God, she was a bloody fucking idiot, that’s what she was, actually believing somebody would want her as their offspring. What a joke. She’d laugh if she didn’t feel so miserable. For a little bit she’d actually deluded herself into thinking this would come together somehow, that she’d create her own little family like this, build upon her _true_ past and…

And what? Eli scrubbed angrily at her eyes. So he didn’t want her. So what? She was of age, she didn’t need parental guidance, and she certainly didn’t need to submit anything to the Ministry if she didn’t want to. It was all _her_ choice now, so at least there was that. She could control her own destiny. Maybe being of age meant she could change her surname, make it McKinnon and simply bear her mother’s name, her family name, connect with that side of her heritage and just…ignore anything else. Eli could do it. She could bury the pain and pick her own path.

It didn’t erase the sharp, desperate pain in her chest, though.

But maybe it would, with time. Or at least it would dull. She had the Weasleys, she had George, she didn’t need _him_.

Stubbornness would go a long way, she figured.

Eli sat there in the park until her eyes dried, until she stopped feeling like she’d burst into sobs again if she spoke. She left around sundown, knowing she’d be kicked out anyway if she stayed much longer, and just wandered the streets of London, aimless and too lost in her thoughts to care. If she wanted to go back she’d just Apparate, no problem. And she had her wand, she was totally safe.

Somehow, in her dazed state, she made it to the Thames and found herself walking along the riverbank towards Tower Bridge, past the Globe, unsure quite how she’d ventured so far but too hollowed out to care. She had no real sense of the time, but figured it had to be well past midnight, judging on the distance alone. The others were probably looking for her. She’d owe George an enormous apology, and Mrs. Weasley, but hopefully they’d understand it had been a difficult day. Eli was almost, almost ashamed of her reaction, but she’d never expected that level of rejection, honestly, never thought after everything he’d just…turn away after that one little detail came to light. Why was it such a big deal anyway? So what she had his surname, why did it matter?!

Rage built up in her chest and Eli furiously kicked out at a rubbish bin, sending it clattering along the path. It didn’t help one bit.

A faint glow illuminated the area, casting her shadow in front of her. Eli glanced up at Tower Bridge, taking a moment to compose herself—she wasn’t sure exactly who was attempting to contact her. If it was any of the Weasleys, she’d make a point of not lashing out at them.

Composed enough for the moment, Eli turned to face the half-formed Patronus, which hovered just behind her. It wasn’t corporeal, just a step behind it, a burst of light and energy concentrated into what looked like a small, brilliant sun, floating and changing shape as if fluttered by an invisible breeze. She’d always thought these forms were pretty, much nicer than the shield form, but it meant she had no idea who was trying to contact her.

Then, slowly, as she took a step back, the Patronus lowered to the ground, shifting and changing form, until a beautiful grey wolf stood before her, shimmering silvery-blue in the darkness.

“What do you want?” Eli demanded sharply, all pretense of being calm gone. She knew exactly whose Patronus this was.

The wolf lowered its head, ears flat, and pawed at the ground.

Eli scoffed and crossed her arms. “Well I’m not coming back. Not yet. And why should I come back just for you asking? You don’t want me, you made that perfectly clear. So leave me alone.” Her voice wavered, so she made herself feel stronger by waving the wolf off and turning on her heel to leave. “Clearly that’s what you want.”

_Crack!_

Oh, bloody hell.

She turned around warily, half hoping somebody else had come—but no, of course not, she wasn’t that lucky. Remus stood only a few feet away, where his Patronus had appeared, looking exhausted and relieved and distressed all at once.

“Why are you here?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Why would you bother coming?”

Remus recoiled a bit, like she’d made to strike him, and she had to fight the way her heart wanted to soften. “Where else would I be?” he asked quietly. “Eli, I’ve been looking everywhere for you, we all have… You were gone so long, I…” He paused, swallowed, and seemed to steady himself before continuing. “I thought you might have just…vanished.”

He didn’t mean vanished, and she knew that. It was clear in his tone, his manner, the worry creasing his forehead. He meant _I thought you might have been killed_.

“Well, I’m fine,” she told him shortly. “You can go now. Just like you want.”

“I—that isn’t—I’m not-”

But Eli cut him off. She was too hurt, too angry to keep everything inside, and it all just tumbled out at once. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?! You’d rather me be gone, out of your life! I _know_ it, I saw how you looked, you couldn’t even speak to me you were so—so against it, the whole idea of me having your surname! All of it! Maybe it’s a nice concept but I’m nothing you want to deal with in reality!” She felt her whole body trembling, but she didn’t care, she just pushed on, letting everything go. “I thought I’d found my family, Remus, I thought you _wanted_ me, but apparently I was wrong! S-so just go, just stop pretending! I don’t need anyone’s charity! And I certainly don’t need to force somebody to be in my life when they clearly don’t want to be! So just…just leave me alone!”

Eli sank to her knees and wept, clutching weakly at her sleeves as her whole body shook with the force of each sob. She didn’t want to be this…this _pathetic_ , this weak, but she was so overwhelmed. Her whole life had been completely thrown upside down, this bright spot in her existence had been snuffed out in one moment… And it was too much, on top of everything else. Far too much for her to bear.

“Oh, Eli…” Her body seized as Remus dropped to the ground beside her and wrapped her up so tightly in his arms, pulling her right against his chest. “You’ve got it all wrong, just—listen to me, please.”

She tried to pull away, tried to fight him, but he was stronger and her heart wasn’t in it. “Why should I?” she snapped instead, clenching her eyes shut. “You already showed me what you think, I don’t need to hear it for myself!”

“You do need to hear this,” he countered. “Because you don’t understand what I’m thinking at all.” Gripping her even tighter with one arm, he used the other hand to tilt her head up to look at him, despite her reluctance. “I’m not pretending anything. All right? I never have, not to you. Your mother…she never told me anything, I had no idea of any of this, and you know that. But this…” He suddenly sat back, releasing her, and Eli watched as his expression crumbled. “I loved your mother, Eli. But once I knew she’d hidden you from me, I assumed it—wasn’t true for her. I was only stunned because I’d never thought she’d do something like that, I thought she didn’t _want_ me to be your father. Do you understand?”

Eli felt something breaking inside her chest. “I…but you…”

“I only looked so shocked because I realized right then that she always wanted me to find you,” he admitted quietly. “And I’d never thought that before. Because of…what I am… Because I thought she’d separated you from me intentionally.”

“You thought…” Eli swallowed hard, horrified with herself. “You thought she kept me away from you to—to keep me safe from you? But that’s _ridiculous_ , I’d never need protection from you, god, you’re not dangerous, I’ve told you that, but…you…” She wiped her eyes on her wrist, trying to piece it together. Was he actually suggesting…that he…he wasn’t upset about her surname? How badly had she gotten this screwed up inside her head?

He smiled thinly. “I am dangerous, and you should be afraid-”

“No!” Eli shot to her feet and stared him down fiercely. “I am _not_ afraid of you, I will _never_ be afraid of you, and I will _never_ say you’re dangerous. I swear it. And she—she didn’t think it either, she wrote about you in her letter, and she only said that she loved you and that y-you’re a wonderful person. That’s all!” She blinked hard to clear her eyes, trying to hold it together. “I…I ran away because I thought you _hated_ me, I thought you didn’t want me,” she whispered. “Does that sound like someone who’s _afraid_ of you? I don’t…” Her voice cracked and her shoulders hitched as she pushed back a sob. All her resolve was shattering, more and more with every moment that passed, until she narrowed down to just one singular focus. “I don’t want to do this, Remus, I don’t want to wonder anymore. Just— _tell_ me, please. Tell me what you think of all this. I’ve told you, I said everything, you know exactly how I feel. But you’re dancing around it and I’m so, so tired of not knowing where I stand for sure. We should’ve talked it out before but we didn’t, so now we’re just…here. _Please_. I never have to show anyone that paper if it upsets you, if you don’t want me to have that name. Just…be honest with me. That’s all I’m asking.”

Remus got to his feet and approached her slowly, cautiously, his face guarded. “I can’t promise to be very good at this,” he told her quietly. “Your mother…she always got so cross with me for keeping everything inside while pretending nothing’s wrong. But I…” He passed a hand over his face, looking so weary. “I never once felt anything but…but pride and awe that Eva gave you my surname. Not even for a moment. You…” His smile was weak, tired, but genuine. “You’re my daughter, Eli. I don’t take that for granted. And it’s not… I won’t lie and say it’s something I expected, or ever planned for, because as a…” His voice caught, but he powered on through. “…as a werewolf, I never thought to have children, it’s always been too great a risk… But it… _you_ are absolutely something that makes my life better. I swear to you.”

She sort of stumbled into his chest, but he pulled her in tightly and she knew he wasn’t upset. God, Eli felt like a complete arse, running off and panicking… But in the end it was okay, she hadn’t ruined anything, hadn’t _lost_ anything, and that was what mattered. There was only one thing left now. “So,” she mumbled, looking up at him warily. “What do we do about that paper, then?”

\--

Eli did try to sneak back into Grimmauld Place, but naturally, the moment she and Remus Apparated into the hallway, George sprinted out and spotted her, going rigid with shock. He looked more ragged than she’d ever seen him, face pale, eyes dark and bruised underneath, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. But once he’d gotten past the initial shock, he barreled right into her, clutching at her almost desperately, like he’d never let her go. “Where were you?” he breathed, threading one hand into her hair. “We—we looked _everywhere_ , for hours, no one knew where you’d gone…”

She winced, shame crawling up her throat. “I—I’m sorry, George… I…” Eli glanced back at Remus, only to find he’d slipped past them and headed into the kitchen, ostensibly to give them a little privacy. “I reacted too fast to something,” she mumbled, embarrassed of herself. “I was an idiot, honestly, I never should’ve gone off, I just… A lot’s happened, that’s all.”

George leaned back and kissed her forehead, sighing weakly. “Come on. You’re shivering, Eli.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t noticed, but with the exhaustion and adrenaline and just…everything else, it wasn’t exactly surprising. So she let George lead her upstairs, into her bedroom, shutting the door to the rest of the house and locking it behind him. He turned his back while she changed into flannel pants and a t-shirt, sleep clothes, and he just summoned a set of his own from across the hall, which he put on while she sat on the bed facing away from him. Apparently he wasn’t going very far, though she didn’t blame him for that.

Finally, Eli slid into her bed and George sat on the edge beside her, brow furrowed deeply. “What happened?” he asked softly, as he reached out and took her hand. When she didn’t reply immediately, he squeezed down and begged, “ _Please_ , Eli… You were gone for hours… It had to have been bad…”

She sat back up in bed, tucking her knees to her chest and shrugging. “It wasn’t, that’s the thing. I panicked, I completely lost it, and it was all over…over _nothing_.”

George edged closer, until he could drape an arm over her shoulders, protective and sweet. “You had a reason, though… Something set you off.” He was trying not to press too hard, she could tell, but he was definitely struggling. She stayed silent, though, half stubborn and half unsure how to proceed, so he reached up and touched her locket gently, almost just to get her attention. “What’s this?”

“It…was my mother’s,” Eli admitted. That much, she could talk about. “It’s got a portrait of her side of the family. Mr. Shacklebolt brought me this—this box that she’d left me, which I was only supposed to get after I came of age.”

He frowned again, thinking. “And…what else was in there?”

Damn. He was too smart for his own good, sometimes. “A letter from her, explaining what happened, why she hid me. It was all just to protect me, in the end.”

“…And?”

“Some memories for a Pensieve.”

George tipped her chin up gently. “Eli. You can tell me.”

She closed her eyes tight, and took the plunge. “It—it had my official birth record, George. With my real name, my—my father’s name, everything.” Slowly, she pulled it out of her pocket, smoothing the parchment gently before passing it to him.

He took it carefully, unfolded it, and then began to read it intently. “So it confirms Evangeline McKinnon was your mum,” he murmured, “and that Remus is your dad. But we knew that, really, didn’t we? And you were happy about it. So why’s this such a…” But he trailed off as he read further, eyes going wide. “You… You have his last name.” George looked up at her in shock. “ _That’s_ why you panicked, isn’t it? You thought it was too much?”

Eli averted her gaze, uncomfortable that he’d read her so well. “How’d you guess that?” she muttered.

“Because you always feel inadequate,” he replied easily. “I know you, Eli. I know what’d worry you the most. I mean, blimey, when I asked you to the ball you thought it was _charity_. I can’t hardly imagine what went through your head when you saw this.” George smiled fondly, though, and kissed her forehead. “So…you thought he wouldn’t want you, and you…ran away?” After a pause, he added, “Again?”

She swatted at him, annoyed. “Yes, all right, I left, because I needed to clear my head, that’s all. And…and because I didn’t want to face him.” Eli groaned and flopped backwards, snatching up a pillow and pressing it to her face. “But he found me anyway, chased me down with his Patronus. And we—we talked. I was completely arse-backwards, he’s actually _happy_ about the whole thing, and so I worried everyone for absolutely nothing. _Again_.” With the pillow still firmly over her head, she grumbled, “Also, I still have no idea what I’m doing about my name. Remus left that up to me, said he didn’t want to force the _stigma_ on me, as if I care, I already have a reputation at school, maybe people would be more afraid of me if they think I’m part werewolf.”

George snorted. “There’s the Eli I know.” He tugged the pillow off and instead lay down with his head on it, right beside her. “So you have a real father now, you know exactly who your parents are, and your family—and your only dilemma is whether or not to take your real name and fix your records at the Ministry.” Grinning, he wiggled his fingers on her side and asked, “Do you like your name? The real one, I mean?”

“Oh, _Eliana Aubrielle McKinnon Lupin_?” she asked dryly, making a face. “That fairytale thing? I’m not convinced. As far as surnames, well… Remus suggested I could have any of the three names, since it’s such a unique circumstance. Chaplain, McKinnon, or Lupin.”

He pulled the blankets up over both of them, and Eli pretended it was just normal, though her heart was beating hard in her chest. Was he…staying the night? It certainly seemed that way, when he lay an arm over her waist and scooted in closer to her. “That’s not a bad decision, though. So you’ve been, what, Eliana Margery Chaplain, or commonly Eli Chaplain, to anyone who doesn’t wanna get hexed.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. “And now you’re between, er… Keeping Eli Chaplain, or becoming Eli McKinnon, or Eli Lupin. Right?”

“You make it sound so simple,” she griped, wrinkling her nose at him. “It’s a huge decision.”

George raised an eyebrow. “Is it, though? I mean… Look at it this way. The Chaplains raised you, but you don’t even want to go back to them, as far as I can tell. They were enchanted to be your parents and honestly, they’re not very comfortable with the idea of magic overall. You’re much happier the longer you’re away from them. As for the McKinnons… They’re your family, but I mean, you don’t _know_ them. It’s very sweet that your mum made sure you were taken care of, that she protected you, but is that worth taking her name?” He shrugged easily, clearly not on the same plane as her. “From an outside perspective, the only person who seems to be consistently choosing you, consistently supporting you, the one who keeps racing out in the dead of the night to make sure you’re safe, is Remus. So if you’re weighing it by who’s really proving themselves a true _parent_ , there’s no contest, is there?”

She rolled to face away from him, mostly feigning irritation but still feeling like he didn’t quite grasp the seriousness of the situation. “So you have it all figured out then, hm?” she muttered dryly.

“I’m just saying you’re overthinking it.” George chuckled and tugged on her arm until she turned back over. “Eli, look. It’s too late to be thinking about this anyway, don’t worry about it until morning, all right?”

Eli was too exhausted to argue that, honestly, so she just nodded and murmured, “Are you…staying?”

His face grew very serious. “I just spent all day worrying my head off about you. I’m not going anywhere.” George smoothed a piece of hair from her face, lingering as he tucked it behind her ear, until she grew too impatient and leaned into him for a kiss.

“Wait,” she blurted, pulling back suddenly. “But—you’re leaving Fred alone? He’ll give us hell forever.”

George smirked at her. “Alone? He’s not alone. Simon’s in with him.”

Eli couldn’t even help the way her eyes bugged out. “Oh my god. So are they-”

“He hasn’t said for sure, but I think so.” George nodded in the general direction of the other room. “We could always go eavesdrop.”

“No thanks,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I’d rather face a troll. I’m happy for them, though, it’s been ridiculous watching them dance around it for this long.” Eli curled into George’s chest then, too tired to bother worrying about what would happen if they got caught, if someone walked in and got the wrong idea… He wrapped his arms around her and fell asleep quickly, a testament to how exhausted he’d been from the stress of the day, yet even though Eli felt bitterly tired, sleep evaded her, slipping out of her grasp until the grey light of dawn crept under the curtains, and she finally managed to drift off.


	15. That Burning Sensation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! I'm sorry for the delay - life has thrown way too much at me this week and it was difficult to find time to post this. Anyway, thank you SO much for the feedback and love for the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this next bit! Fair warning, there's a little time jump at the beginning, but I wanted to delve right into the upcoming action and this made it flow the best. Enjoy!

Eli was absolutely notorious for getting into all sorts of chaos, true, but usually not with teachers. Yet this abhorrent, disgustingly pink toad of a woman had managed to push her buttons to such an extent that she’d stormed from the classroom. She’d lucked out as Dumbledore understood the situation, and managed to pacify the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—a bloody Ministry woman to boot—but Eli had been warned that any further incidents would lead to punishments, and possibly the revocation of her position as Slytherin Prefect, not to mention Quidditch Captain…

But Umbridge had called her father a _half-breed_.

Not Remus specifically, no, and the professor had no idea of Eli’s parentage, but she’d made a careless blanket statement about werewolves, how uncontrolled they were, and slipped up by calling them half-breeds—that much was evidenced by her hurried attempts to cover it up. It was a mistake, she’d explained later, slip of the tongue, of _course_ she didn’t mean all werewolves were savages and half-breeds… Notwithstanding that werewolves weren’t actually half _anything_ , to boot.

The damage had been done, though. Eli would have hexed Umbridge into the next bloody _century_ if Simon hadn’t intervened in time, dragging her back into her seat and distracting her just before she unleashed whatever form of hell had been brewing in her mind. And it ingrained a deep, deep hatred inside Eli, for this woman who flaunted her power and connection with the Ministry, who harbored obvious prejudices against anyone but _‘perfect’_ pureblood wizards, who from that point on treated Eli as though she didn’t exist.

All of which happened during her first class with the toad. She didn’t even find out until later that Umbridge had given Harry detention for insisting Voldemort had returned, which only served to fuel her fire—and after a little prodding, he revealed that _she_ , Umbridge, was behind the awful piece of anti-werewolf legislation passed a couple years ago, which had made it nearly impossible for werewolves to find work, as they faced extreme prejudice and discrimination which was _Ministry-sanctioned_. In the end, to keep her from completely going off, George wrote a rather cryptic letter to Remus who in turn sent Eli a letter of his own, talking her down from it and reminding her that it wouldn’t do anyone a bit of good if she went after the woman. It’d only make things worse.

That whole incident, coupled with the fact that Umbridge refused to allow _any_ spellwork of any sort in her classroom, all came to a head when the Ministry named her Hogwarts High Inquisitor, a glorified position which really just enabled her to create arbitrary rules based on her whims, and evaluate the school’s current professors for their _‘value to the school,’_ whatever that meant. That culminated in a rather public, despicable attempt to send Professor Trelawney, who taught Divination, away from the school, an event Dumbledore firmly put to rest by allowing her to remain in her room at the school even though she wasn’t allowed to teach anymore.

In mid-October, Eli was outside the castle with the twins, Simon, and a handful of other students—even a couple Slytherins—who’d asked her for assistance on their disarming spells, since she’d been practicing defensive spells with Simon and the twins in preparation for their NEWTs. It was all going well for a bit, and actually causing some serious inter-house cooperation…

Until Umbridge came by and disarmed Eli’s opponent, a Hufflepuff named Thomas Quinn, effectively ending the practice session. She proclaimed that what they were doing was _against the rules_ and promised detentions and possible expulsions for anyone who dared continue such dangerous, unnecessary activities.

A few days later, the twins sought out Eli and Simon, who were sitting in the library studying after dinner, and ushered them off to a secluded corner. “So what’s going on?” Eli demanded, crossing her arms. “I was working on my Potions homework, you know.”

“Look, this is important,” Fred told her. “We can’t say why here, but when we go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, meet us at the Hog’s Head at two.”

George nodded insistently. “Trust us. You’ll like it, honest. Both of you.”

So, admittedly confused and wary, they joined the twins the very next day in venturing to the Hog’s Head, while most other students simply went to Honeyduke’s or Zonko’s, and Eli was shocked to find an assembled group made up of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs—and one Slytherin, naturally. Herself.

Eli felt uncomfortable, outnumbered, but she latched onto George’s hand and sat beside him, grateful when he and Fred made space for her and Simon. “So, what’s this all about?” she asked quietly.

George smirked. “Harry’s going to teach us all what Umbridge won’t.”

“Brilliant.” She cast a look to the front of the room, where Harry, Ron, and Hermione had settled, all looking a bit nervous. “It’s about bloody time someone defied that toad’s damn rules. I was just about to ask Remus to tutor me over the break, honestly, I figured I’d have no chance of passing my NEWT otherwise.”

Finally, Hermione rose from her seat and stepped to the center, looking awfully uncomfortable. “Er, hi,” she greeted shyly. “So—you all know why we’re here. We need a teacher.” She glanced at Harry. “A _proper_ teacher. One who’s…who’s had experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts, because…we’ve got to be able to protect ourselves. From Lord V-Voldemort.”

A ripple of fear ran through the room as she uttered the name, but Eli didn’t flinch. She’d gotten used to hearing it at the handful of Order meetings she’d been around for, only simple ones when they wanted her on call in case of emergencies and she needed to know _something_ about what she might be healing. Grimmauld Place was perhaps the one spot where people actually felt a little comfortable saying his name, at least in certain situations.

“Oh yeah?” Zacharias Smith asked loudly. “How do we know he’s even really back?”

“Dumbledore believes he is,” George pointed out, trying to smooth things over before they got out of hand.

Next to him, Justin Finch-Fletchley seemed to gain a little traction too. “Only because _he_ says. Where’s the proof? If Potter could actually _tell_ us how Cedric died…” He was a Hufflepuff, so it was almost excusable, but the look on Harry’s face told Eli that it wasn’t quite enough to pass.

“I’m not gonna talk about Cedric, so if that’s why you’re here, you can clear out now,” Harry told the group sharply, rising to his feet. “I didn’t come here so you can pick at me like some kind of freak. I’ve only told the truth about what happened, because I _fought_ Lord Voldemort last year, because I saw him return. If that’s not enough then don’t bother staying.”

“Yeah, but does that actually make you qualified-”

Ginny cut off Smith’s second attempt at undermining Harry with a sharp retort. “He’s only confronted you-know-who himself _four_ times and lived to talk about it. Sod off.”

“I’ve heard you can produce a Patronus Charm, a corporeal one,” Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw, piped up.

A Hufflepuff Eli believed was called Susan Bones shifted in her chair, before blurting out, “One of the portraits said you’d killed a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets with the sword in Dumbledore’s office… Swore by it, he did… Is that true?”

Harry looked surprised. “Um…well, yeah, I did.”

Lee Jordan, the twins’ friend, stared at him in some kind of awe. “Blimey, Harry…”

Fred nudged him and added, “Can’t forget that he saved the Philosopher’s Stone from you-know-who in his first year.”

“And third year, he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once,” Ron told the group with a certain sense of pride. “All with one Patronus Charm.”

Joining in with the event she actually knew the most about, Eli pointed out, “And he was attacked by Dementors this summer, completely out of nowhere. He fought them off too and saved a muggle at the same time.”

Harry interjected then, though. “Look, it—it all sounds great when you say it like that, but the truth is, most of that was just luck.” He stared off into the corner of the room. “I didn’t know what I was doing half the time, and I nearly always had help, I wasn’t just charging off doing—heroic things and then making it home in time for supper.”

“He’s just being modest,” Hermione tried to say, looking uncomfortable.

“No, Hermione, I’m not,” Harry insisted firmly. He began to pace in front of the pub’s fireplace, agitated, looking more like he wanted to bolt than anything else, but he didn’t. “Facing this stuff in real life is nothing like school. Here, if you make a mistake, you can just try again tomorrow, it doesn’t mean anything. But out there…when you’re a second away from being murdered, or…watching a friend die right before your eyes…” He sighed roughly. “You don’t know what that’s like.”

Eli crossed her arms. “And that’s the point, isn’t it?” she asked him directly. “You know what it’s like, we don’t. What’s the point of Defense Against the Dark Arts except to actually learn to _defend_ ourselves? That’s why we’ve had teachers like Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody, people who’ve really been there, who know what it’s like to fight Voldemort and Death Eaters and the like.”

Smith snorted loudly, though. “Right. Says the Slytherin. Why’s she here, anyway, who let the snake in the room?”

George was on his feet in an instant, staring the shorter boy down. “You got a problem with her?” he demanded harshly, one hand going for his wand in a sort of threat, like he was going to duel Smith to defend her honor or something.

“I’ve got a problem with Slytherins,” Smith drawled, glaring at Eli something fierce. “Didn’t you hear how easily she said _his_ name? That house is full of nothing but Dark witches and wizards.”

“Now listen here,” George began harshly.

But just as Eli was getting to her feet to defend herself, of all people, Harry snapped, “I’ll vouch for her myself if you’d like. I invited her here. You’ve got a problem, take it up with me. She’s as trustworthy as any of us.”

Eli tugged George back into his seat and eyed Smith disdainfully. “Do you think our houses will actually matter when he comes to give us a choice—join him or die? Do you _actually_ think Slytherin house will be spared just because of our reputation? You’re mental if you actually believe that. And anyway…” She scowled at nothing in particular. “I’m no pureblood. Not exactly the paragon Salazar Slytherin wanted in his house.”

“Eli’s right, anyway,” Ginny declared loudly. “That’s why we need Harry’s help. Because none of us have ever fought off Dementors or you-know-who or anything. He’s our only chance at beating Voldemort.” Her voice didn’t waver as she spoke the name, maybe the first time she had, and it just served to drive the point home—they needed help.

So, with the matter settled, Hermione brought out an enchanted parchment and had everyone sign it, explaining it would keep them from revealing anything about the organization—Dumbledore’s Army, it was called—and once she’d signed, Eli stepped to the side and nodded at Harry. “Look…thank you for standing up for me like that,” she murmured, a touch embarrassed. “You didn’t have to do it, I’m not bothered by people like Smith running their mouths.”

Harry shrugged it off. “It’s no problem. Anyway, you don’t act like most other Slytherins do. I trust you.” He gave her a wry little smirk and added, “Remus told me you can produce a Patronus too. So I’m hoping you’ll help me crack that one.”

Eli couldn’t help but laugh. So he had a bit of a snake’s slyness in him after all. “We’ll see,” she teased, giving him a bright wave before heading out with Simon and the twins, her arm loosely around George’s as they went.

Over the next few days, the core of the DA—being Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Simon, the twins, and Eli, to her own surprise—began searching the school for a place to practice in secret. The twins borrowed the Marauder’s Map to pore over it one night, but didn’t turn up anything promising, unfortunately. Umbridge, though she was absolutely unaware of the DA’s existence, passed a decree banning all student-run organizations. This caused a huge fuss for a bit, as it disbanded the house Quidditch teams temporarily, until it was all reinstated by Dumbledore, who did still have that authority.

Eli had already put a team together earlier in the year, opening try-outs to first years in an unprecedented move, and brought one first-year girl on as an alternate Seeker, behind Draco Malfoy who, unfortunately, outperformed any of the other potential Seekers. Most of the core team was taken back on as well, seeing as they did make an excellent team, overall. When the toad’s decree passed, she raced to Professor Snape for assistance, and within twenty-four hours had her team back up and running. It took Ravenclaw a few days, and Hufflepuff a couple more, while Gryffindor spent nearly a week in limbo while Dumbledore hashed it out with Umbridge.

Of course, almost in a sort of retaliation, the first match scheduled was Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. Eli was disappointed in her house’s ridiculous song teasing the new Gryffindor Keeper, Ron, and though she admitted he wasn’t up to his usual snuff, she wasn’t going to be a poor sport about it. Not even when her team lost, only because Malfoy didn’t catch the damned Snitch when it _flew past his bloody head_ , and Harry caught it later in a neck-and-neck race.

Eli was just landing to shake hands with Angelina Johnson, Gryffindor’s Captain, when Crabbe—one of Malfoy’s minions and a new Beater, in part because she’d known the twins could kick his arse on the field, if she were being honest—flew down behind Harry and slammed him right in the back of his head with his club.

She whipped her wand out and immediately blasted him back, as he’d been going in for another hit, but the damage was done. The twins landed beside Harry and helped him to his feet as a few Gryffindors rushed the field, astounded. Eli marched past them and hauled Crabbe to his feet by the front of his robes, flushed with anger. “Get out of here,” she snarled, shoving him away. “Detention for a week. And I’ll be reviewing your place on this team. Go!”

With him gone, she jogged back to the others and approached Harry, wand still out, hurrying to examine the back of his head. “You ought to be fine, it wasn’t full-force,” she told him, squinting past the snow that had begun to fall. “But I’d let Madame Pomfrey give you something for the headache.”

Harry turned to say something to her, perhaps a thank you, but he was cut off by Malfoy landing and striding to stand just a few feet away. “Bet you loved that, Potter. Saved your boyfriend’s neck, didn’t you?”

“Malfoy, clear off,” Eli snapped, before turning her back on him.

But he wasn’t done, it seemed. “Bloody hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a worse Keeper!” He grinned sharply at them. “Maybe we ought to add a few new verses to our song, liven things up a little bit. Maybe something about his filthy mother?”

George made a grab for him, furious in a heartbeat, but Fred and Harry caught him just in time. Eli shouted for him to leave again, using her best Head Girl tone, but it was no use.

“And his pathetic loser of a father, too!”

Eli cursed as Fred released George and tried to have a go at Malfoy too. Thankfully Lee Jordan and Angelina held him back firmly, while she held on tightly to George’s arm, trying to keep him grounded. “Just ignore him,” she told the Gryffindors loudly. “He’s never been able to handle inadequacy well.”

Malfoy smirked at her. “Aw, that’s right, you like the disgusting little Weasleys too, don’t you?” He eyed her and Harry disdainfully. “How can you ever stand the stink? Oh, I know, Potter! Maybe it’s because it reminds you of the stink of your dearly departed mother!”

“Malfoy!” Eli yelled, stunned. But it was much too late.

George pulled free as suddenly Eli was the only one holding him, and he and Harry charged Malfoy, Harry reaching him first and delivering a harsh blow to Malfoy’s jaw, sending the blond boy flying. George got there second, laying right into him, while Eli frantically placed herself in front of Fred, who was now fighting _four_ people just to reach Malfoy.

“ _Impedimenta_!”

Madame Hooch had finally spotted the chaos, it seemed. George and Harry went flying off Malfoy, who was lying in a sniveling, bloodied heap—what he deserved, really. But that wasn’t going to be a good enough excuse, she realized, as Professor McGonagall stormed onto the field and shouted at George and Harry, utterly furious. She took the two off the pitch with her, heading towards her office, just as Simon finally got to the field, panting hard. “This isn’t good,” he muttered, taking Eli’s place in front of Fred as she moved to collect her battered teammate.

Sighing to herself, Eli flicked her wand at Malfoy, using a simple spell to staunch any blood flow and ease the pain a bit. “Go on, you’ll be fine getting to the hospital wing like that,” she told him, feeling absolutely no sympathy. “And if you _ever_ pull a stunt like that again, believe me, your father won’t be able to protect you,” she threatened sharply. It was enough to get Malfoy to scurry to his feet and limp off the pitch, thankfully.

“What happened?” Simon asked, once Malfoy was safely gone.

Fred scowled darkly. “He had a go at my mum and dad, and Harry’s mum too,” he explained harshly. “That slimy little git, I’ll-”

“You won’t do anything,” Eli interjected, crossing her arms. “George and Harry are in enough trouble as it is. Professor McGonagall was furious, they’ll be lucky to make practices with all the detentions they’ll be getting, honestly. Don’t go making more trouble for yourself.” She noticed Madame Hooch giving them pointed looks, so she herded everyone off the pitch, quick as she could.

“So they just attacked him?” Simon’s eyes were wide. “Fisticuffs and all that?”

Fred nodded, a bit pleased, honestly. “I’m disappointed I didn’t get to join in, if you wanna know the truth.” At Eli’s sharp look, he grumbled, “It’s just how I feel.”

“Malfoy’s an arse, we all know that,” she told him dryly. “But this is _bad_ , Fred. I can feel it.”

\--

As it turned out, Eli was entirely right. While Professor McGonagall was handing out her punishment—one that would have been fair and appropriately lenient, considering what Malfoy had actually said—the pink toad herself had intervened, and given not only George and Harry lifetime Quidditch bans, but Fred as well on the premise that he _would_ have joined in given half a chance.

With the Gryffindor Quidditch team in tatters, the whole group’s mood was incredibly somber. Eli tried to cheer Harry up by convincing Remus to write up a list of some really important defensive spells, to assist in Dumbledore’s Army—though she didn’t specify exactly what it was for—and it only helped a little.

What _did_ help was when they finally found a place to practice. It didn’t appear on the Marauder’s Map, so it was something they hadn’t discovered whilst in school, a fact Eli was eager to bring back to Remus and Sirius. It was called the Room of Requirement, and it was, well, _perfect_. With just the right thought, the whole room appeared outfitted with everything they’d need—spell-test dummies, Dark Detectors, safety mats, endless DADA equipment, and even a few texts on the subject. And so, fully outfitted, the DA began meeting regularly, once a week. Harry proved an excellent teacher, actually, once he got into the rhythm of it. He started small, with more basic spells like _expelliarmus_ and _stupefy_ , and the essential _protego_ as well. Once the group began to master those, he progressed into small duels, pairing them off and letting them really try it on their own. They practiced disarming each other in various situations too, rearranging furniture and such to create new courses.

Umbridge began questioning students, one by one, but Eli was ready for it. She presented each member of the DA with a small, single-dose vial of a potion to neutralize veritaserum, since the pervading theory was that the toad was interrogating students with its help. These were given with the caution to only take them if absolutely necessary, since it’d raise suspicions if she had to ask Professor Snape for the same ingredients again.

With the holidays fast-approaching, Eli made plans to spend Christmas at Grimmauld Place with everyone else, writing to the Chaplains with her usual excuses. She was especially pleased because staying there meant she could keep working on her healing potions—Sirius had given her permission to practice in a spare room, providing she cleaned up after herself and didn’t set the house on fire.

Only a few nights before the holidays began, Eli was shaken awake roughly by Professor Snape. At first she thought he was cross because she’d fallen asleep in the common room again, until she saw the pinched, tense expression on his face. “Sir? Is something wrong?” she asked, rubbing at her eyes.

Professor Snape nodded once. “Arthur Weasley has been attacked.”

Eli’s heart dropped to the floor. He’d been _what_? “I—but how?” she demanded. “I thought the—I thought he wasn’t supposed to be in serious danger. What happened?”

“You’ll find out the details later. The Headmaster requested you be alerted along with his children, considering your close attachment to the family.” He turned and began striding from the common room before she’d even gotten to her feet. “Come along, Miss Chaplain. Quickly.”

Eli hurried after him, glad she’d fallen asleep in socks at least, though she wasn’t really fond of wandering the castle in her bedclothes—but this was important, so she kept her mouth shut. Professor Snape led the way to the Headmaster’s office with his wand lit, then spoke the password and had Eli follow him up the stairs, right into the office without even knocking.

Inside, she found the twins, Simon, Ron, Ginny, and Harry, the latter of whom looked pale and sickly. She crossed quickly to embrace Ginny first, for the younger girl gave her a worried, stressed look, before coming to stand beside George and wrapping her arms around his middle. At the head of the room, Headmaster Dumbledore was pacing, agitated, while he spat questions at Harry in rapid succession, almost…almost _rudely_ , unsympathetically, which wasn’t at all what Eli had expected. But as she listened, she began to understand what had happened.

Harry had dreamt an attack, by Voldemort’s snake. He’d seen it from the snake’s view, watched it attack Mr. Weasley, leaving him to—to _die_ somewhere… But as he revealed it, he grew more and more agitated, more frustrated and panicked, and Dumbledore just wasn’t paying attention…

“Look at me!” Harry shouted suddenly, shocking the Headmaster into finally looking him in the eye. “What’s happening to me?” he asked desperately, shivering.

Everything happened so _fast_. Snape whisked Harry off somewhere, while Dumbledore enchanted a portkey between a hurried discussion with a portrait on the wall, who apparently was communicating with members of the Order. In the chaos, she ascertained that Mr. Weasley had been found and transported immediately to St. Mungo’s hospital in London, for treatment, but they were to go to Grimmauld Place to await news, as no one expected any of them to stay after this. Eli and Simon were allowed to go along because of their connection to the Weasleys, and the Order by default.

They all took Dumbledore’s impromptu portkey to Grimmauld Place, a simple teapot, and were met in the kitchen moments after they arrived by Sirius and Remus. “There you are,” Sirius sighed, looking weary. “I suppose Dumbledore kept Harry for…never mind.” He raked a hand through his hair. “They’ve got Arthur, he’s safe, not out of the woods yet but he’s in good hands.”

Ginny crossed her arms. “We’ve got to go to St. Mungo’s,” she announced, firmly.

“You can’t,” Sirius told her bluntly, though he looked regretful.

George bristled at that. “Like hell we can’t. We can go where we please, some of us are of age.”

Remus gave him a pointed look. “Not yet. If we all go racing to St. Mungo’s now, it will only raise suspicions, and we can’t risk that.”

“That’s our bloody father out there, dying!” George yelled, taking a step towards them.

“I’m sorry, George,” Remus told him as gently as he could. “But you all need to stay here tonight. Molly will be back in the morning, you can go visit then.”

Fred stalked up beside his twin. “You don’t even care, do you?” he snarled. “You don’t understand!”

Sirius’s gaze turned harsh, strong enough to make both twins waver a bit in their resolve. “You think we don’t understand?” he asked sharply. “We were in the first Order, we’ve watched people die, we lost our best friends to you-know-who. Believe me, we understand. But we _cannot_ risk everything falling apart because you lot can’t have a little patience.” He turned and waved a hand at them as he left the room. “Or would you rather the whole wizarding world know what my godson saw?”

Eli crossed to the twins and told them quietly, “He’s right, you two know that. We can’t just go running off into the night. We’re here, we’ll find out as soon as anybody knows anything.” Turning to address Ginny, Ron, and Simon as well, she added, “I’ll cook something up, all right? I doubt any of us feel like sleeping right now.”

Leaving the others to find places at the kitchen table, Eli went and dug around in the pantry, her hands practically aching for something to do—so she decided to make food the muggle way, all by hand, to at least occupy herself a bit more. Half an hour later, she’d baked up some chocolate chip cookies and had a pot of tea at the table, pleased when they ate, even if it was mostly an automatic reaction. She was worried sick, of course she was, but it was nothing compared to what the Weasleys must be feeling, so she pushed it aside in favor of making sure everyone was taken care of.

At a certain point, Remus came back and suggested they ought to go to bed—but when that idea was shot down, he brought in blankets and pillows instead, accepting that no one was moving. When he left the room, Eli shot a glance at the others. Simon and Fred were sitting close together, while George sat near Ginny and Ron, talking softly to try and distract them. It was all calm enough that she felt comfortable slipping out after Remus, trailing him down the hall until he heard her behind him, just before he went into the drawing room.

“Are you all right?” he asked her gently.

Eli shrugged, uncertain. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m so worried about taking care of everyone else that I haven’t really focused on it.” Brushing that off, she centered on the main question she wanted to ask. “Do you think he’ll be okay? Honestly. I want to know what I need to be prepared for.”

Remus reached out and hugged her, briefly but tightly, before he replied to her. “They aren’t sure. There’s a good chance, that’s what Molly told me last I heard, but he’s got a difficult night ahead. If he makes it through, he’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Eli nodded resolutely. That much she could handle. “Thank you.” She turned to go, but he caught her arm and held her back.

“Eli…” Remus sighed and then pulled her in again, and though she was confused, she didn’t protest. He just usually wasn’t this comfortable with physical contact, even with her, even with people he really trusted… _God, he must be really shaken up._ “Be careful, please?” he asked her softly. “Look after yourself.”

She smiled, feeling warm deep inside her chest. “You too.” Eli squeezed his hands once, tightly, before heading back into the kitchen. In just that short while, Fred and Simon had passed out slumped against each other, Ginny was asleep in the chair by the fire, and Ron’s head was resting on the table while he slept. The only one still awake was George, who rose when she entered the kitchen, hurrying to her and catching her in his arms.

“It’s all right,” she murmured, smoothing one hand up and down his back. “He’s going to be fine, I believe it. He’s in good hands.”

“I just…I can’t believe this happened,” he breathed out roughly.

Eli nodded, her heart just breaking for him. She hardly even knew what to say, honestly, but she just…wanted to help him somehow. But what was there to say? How could she possibly make this better? His father had been _attacked_ , and god, she’d only known Remus a couple years—with the certainty that he was her father for even less time—but she doubted she’d be handling it half as well if something had happened to him.

As it stood, though, she didn’t have to say anything just then, because George had more on his mind. “Sometimes I just want to run away from it all. You know? I want to leave the country and just…just pretend this isn’t happening.”

“You know we can’t,” she pointed out, sighing. “Besides…you couldn’t handle it. You’re too…” Eli paused, searching for the word. She wanted to say _Gryffindor-ish_ , but finally settled on, “Righteous.”

George smirked at her. “In other words, daft and brazen, like all Gryffindors?”

“That stereotype is hardly true,” Eli sniffed, turning her nose up. “Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor.”

He ruffled her hair a bit, making her wrinkle her nose at him, but he nodded all the same. “True. But still… You’re right, I’d never be able to do it. I like to pretend, though.” Eyeing her, he asked, “So you’re really serious about joining the Order after this year? What about becoming a Healer and everything?”

“I’m hoping to do both, honestly,” Eli explained, a little uncomfortable—she hadn’t voiced her plans to anyone yet. She was still waiting to go to Remus with her idea, to get his opinion, because what she didn’t want was to upset him… Though really, she’d do it anyway even if he were against it. She’d just rather have his approval. “I was going to ask Madame Pomfrey to let me apprentice with her next year. Then I can keep an eye on Harry and the school, and have weekends and probably some days off here and there to participate on missions and such. And I can spend holidays with everyone too, instead of being stuck in a hospital for those. It kind of…ticks all the boxes, I think.”

“You’d definitely be in harm’s way,” George pointed out warily. “Harry’s a bloody danger magnet. Who knows what you’d get yourself into?”

Eli had expected that, though. “Wouldn’t he be safer with another member of the Order around? I can alert everyone if something happens, and besides, it’s no great secret that Professor Snape hates him. I’m more likely to assist him quicker, with smaller things or any worries, you know, things he’d never bother to tell Professor Snape or write to Sirius and the others about.” What she didn’t say was that she’d _rather_ be closer to the danger, simply because she could help quicker. But he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he admitted, though he sounded very reluctant. “I hate the idea of you being in danger but…” George grinned and tapped her nose. “You can handle yourself.” Then he yawned hugely, a big jaw-cracking thing that made her giggle at him.

“You ought to rest,” Eli told him gently. “If anything happens, they’ll wake us immediately.”

George stuck out his tongue at her. “You ought to rest,” he mocked, though it fell hollowly. He was obviously exhausted.

“Very mature,” she deadpanned, shaking her head. “Come on. I’ll stay up a bit longer, and I promise, I’ll get you if I hear anything. Okay?” What she really wanted was to go up to her bedroom, but she wouldn’t leave the Weasleys there, not under any circumstances. So it looked like a night of no sleep for her. Fine. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stayed up all night.

Thankfully, George consented then, grabbing a blanket and pillow and simply putting his head down on the table, too tired to argue any further. For a while, Eli stayed up, writing potion ideas on a piece of scrap paper she hunted down, but she was struggling to find the energy to stay awake, really. It just didn’t seem right to sleep, though—if something happened, if they got any news about Mr. Weasley, she wanted to be able to rouse the others immediately. There was no guarantee of that if Remus or Sirius walked in and they were all asleep.

Yet at some point, Eli did drift off, though she wished she hadn’t.

\--

_It started as a spark, just a spark… The baby had only gotten upset for a moment, and her parents checked on her, didn’t see anything, and left… But within minutes, half the nursery was ablaze. The baby tried to cry, but the acrid smoke filled her little lungs and cut off her voice. Next to her crib, fire roared up, fueled by her struggle, brighter and hotter all because of her panic._

_“Eliana!”_

_Someone was screaming, pounding at the door, but somehow it was locked, stuck in place almost as if by magic._

_The baby finally found her voice and shrieked, wailed, but it didn’t matter—nothing could get through that door, not now. The fire ate its way across the room, reaching the far walls and crawling upward, consuming carefully-selected paintings and designs on the walls, ruining everything her parents had set up for her. At the center of the inferno, the baby hiccupped and cried as hard as she could, but still, no one came for her._

_Then all at once, the fire vanished, leaving only destruction in its wake. The door tumbled off its hinges, and her parents rushed in, staring around them in awe, more concerned with the damage than the baby for a moment._

_And she stopped crying, even as her mother came and picked her up, because it was far too late. She knew they would never come when she was upset, would never put her first._

_It was the last time she ever cried for them to come to her._

\--

Eli jolted awake when someone touched her shoulder, nearly cracking her head on a shelf as she sat up, the images of her dream still clinging to her mind like leeches. Remus stood beside her, a worried frown creasing his forehead as he watched her. “I… Eli, you’re…you’re crying… What’s wrong, did something happen?”

She was confused until she touched her face, and found he was right—tears were trickling down her cheeks, though she hadn’t even noticed she was crying. “Nothing, I’m fine,” she mumbled, embarrassed as she wiped the tears away quickly. “Just a—weird dream, that’s all.”

Remus hesitantly sat down beside her, still looking deeply concerned. “A nightmare,” he corrected gently. “Do you-”

“No,” Eli interrupted him quickly. But seeing hurt cross his face, she winced and explained, “I’d just…rather forget it, that’s all. It’s sweet of you to worry but I don’t want to relive it. I’ll be okay, honest.”

“I understand,” he lied, clearly lied.

So Eli swallowed her pride and muttered, “I think…I think I dreamed something that happened when I was a baby. My p—I mean, the Chaplains always talked about how we’d had a house fire back then, and the nursery got ruined, but they…they never said…” Eli closed her eyes tightly, picturing the scene. “I think it was _me_ , Remus. I think I set the house on fire.”

“Oh, Eli…” He reached out and tipped her head up gently. “Not on purpose, you would’ve been far too young to have any sense of that… Even in the wizarding world, it’s very rare for children under five or six to demonstrate any serious magical ability, no one would’ve been prepared, not that early. It isn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself for something that happened when you were only a baby.” He fumbled in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a clean handkerchief and offering it to her—but Eli was too busy being drowned in guilt to do anything, so he gently wiped her tears away himself. “Did anyone get hurt?” Remus asked softly.

She shook her head. “No. The nursery was destroyed, but the door was magically locked, they couldn’t get in… And it stopped before it could spread anywhere else. But I still-”

“You can’t be held accountable for something like that,” he told her, squeezing her hands. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it’s something I did… This…this affinity for fire, it’s haunted me ever since I was a little girl…” Eli hated to talk about it, always tried to bury the whole thing, but somehow it was all just…spilling out. “Even when I was older, I burned so many things… Favorite toys, my bed, once my entire dresser with all my clothes, every piece…” She pressed her hands over her face. “I always thought I’d get better control of it but I hardly can keep it in when I get too upset. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? And it’s _such_ an awful thing to do, fire is so destructive, one day I’m afraid I might…” Suddenly, Eli felt a strike of pure horror race through her heart. “I—oh god, Remus, I’m sorry, I wasn’t…thinking…” Just from letting her mouth get ahead of her brain, Eli had fallen into dangerous territory—if anyone knew about those worries, about feeling destructive and powerless, the dread of hurting someone they cared about, it was him. Once a month he had to go through those exact same worries, on a completely different scale. How could she be so _careless_?

And yet, impossibly, Remus was smiling ever so gently at her, not upset in the slightest. “It’s all right, don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. You’re just afraid, I understand that, I really do. But you know, I’ve seen you get very upset and nothing’s happened, has it? The last time you had trouble was at the World Cup, as far as I know.”

“That—that was the last time, yes,” she confirmed slowly. “I’m sorry, I was being insensitive and-”

Remus gave her a dry look. “If I can’t stand to talk about my lycanthropy every once in a while at this point, I’d say I’m coping pretty poorly, if you ask me. It’s all right, Eli.” He hesitated, then added, “I trust it when you say you aren’t afraid of me. That’s all I need to know.”

“Of course I’m not afraid of you,” Eli dismissed, frowning.

“Then trust me in return, please… Trust that you are getting control. Because otherwise, well…” He tipped his head to the side and grinned. “I feel there would be considerably more damage to your newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, wouldn’t there?”

Eli flushed bright red, surprised he’d brought it back up. “Well but—that was just…”

“Then why did George Weasley feel the need to write me about how concerned he was that you were about to get expelled for hexing the woman?” Remus asked knowingly. “You two never did tell me _why_ that happened, admittedly, but I know it takes quite a bit to get you that riled up. Actually…” He crossed his arms. “What did Umbridge do that upset you so much? I never got around to asking.”

That had been a nice touch of George’s—explaining what was happening without giving away _why_ Eli was so upset. She’d been grateful to him later, because honestly, she hadn’t wanted to bring it up to Remus, to shove it in his face that the woman responsible for making his life even more difficult had taken his old job. But of course, here he was asking her, and she didn’t have a good excuse to not tell him without making it perfectly obvious why she didn’t want to go into it. “Well…she’s a wretched woman,” Eli muttered, dancing around the subject. “She’s done plenty of awful things.”

A knowing look came over his face. “Ah. Her wonderful bit of legislation. I suppose she was insistent on its benefits?”

It tumbled out of her all at once, in a single breath. “She’s despicable! She’s _completely_ prejudiced, not to mention _totally_ uninformed, and when I tried to correct her she basically told me to keep my mouth shut! I couldn’t just stay quiet, I couldn’t, she’s exactly the type we need to be reeducating, _she’s_ the reason things are so dif-” But Eli cut herself off abruptly, pressing a hand over her mouth.

But Remus wasn’t upset—on the contrary, he looked quite thoughtful and touched. “And you…feel very strongly about all this?”

“I always have,” Eli admitted quietly. She’d never told him this before, because once she’d established to him that she didn’t have anything negative hanging about in her mind regarding him being a werewolf, she’d never wanted to force it on him again. It was an assumption, true, but somehow it didn’t seem that far-fetched that it was a rough subject for him. “Ever since I learnt about the wizarding world, and started researching, learning about everything, I…” She averted her gaze. “I could understand why people were afraid of certain things, creatures whose purpose is ostensibly to kill, or at the very least ones which aren’t human at all… But… But lycanthropes have no _choice_ , that’s what stuck with me. It always seemed very…sad and lonely, really. And no reason to be prejudiced, god.” Her hands warmed, and she tucked them underneath the table quickly. “It’s predictable, and nowadays, somewhat controllable too. There’s no excuse for legislation like that, for—for people like _her_.”

“You are…remarkably like your mother,” Remus murmured, shaking his head in a sort of disbelief. “The very first time she brought me to meet her parents, she engaged her mother in a discussion about lycanthropes, just to show me that Aubriella was against all forms of discrimination. Eva never cared one bit about what I am.”

Eli set her shoulders. “And she shouldn’t have. Nobody should. And someone like—like Umbridge shouldn’t be anywhere near a classroom, if she can’t be a reasonable person.” Leaning forward, she met his surprised gaze with a firm one of her own. “So I told her what a ridiculous notion it was, first. Then when she denied it, I told her that at least werewolves have a singular, predictable point in time where they struggle—rather than, well…” She was a bit proud of this, really. “Rather than being an insufferable close-minded hag every day of their lives.”

Remus’s eyes shot wide. “You didn’t say that to her,” he denied.

“Yes I did! And she deserved it, too!” Eli scowled over his shoulder, staring off into a far corner of the room. “I’ve always had strong opinions about this but—but now it’s _personal_ for me, it was like she was insulting you and I just wasn’t going to sit there and listen…” _Now that might be taking it a bit too far._

“So you were…defending my honor?” he asked, sounding both amused and a bit moved.

Eli grinned sheepishly at him. “Can you blame me? You _are_ my father, after all.”

That made him look embarrassed as well, and for a moment, she worried she’d really overstepped—until Remus broke into a wide smile and suggested, “Well, next time you go about defending my honor…try not to risk criminal charges, hm?”

“No promises,” she laughed easily.

There was a sudden _crack_ in the entry hall—the sound of someone Apparating. Eli exchanged a brief, frantic look with Remus, before the Weasleys all arose, startled by the noise. Then Mrs. Weasley walked into the kitchen, looking exhausted, but not completely ruined, which gave Eli some hope.

“Mum!” Ginny gasped, rushing over to her. “Is he okay? What happened?”

The others clamored anxiously, asking the same questions, and it took Mrs. Weasley a moment to settle them and finally speak. “He’s all right,” she told them gently. “A bit worse for wear, but he’s going to pull through.”

Eli breathed out a sigh of relief, gripping tight to Remus’s wrist as he tried to slip out of the room—it seemed to be a habit of his, but right then, she didn’t want him to go.

“When can we see him?” Fred asked impatiently.

Mrs. Weasley gave him a look. “Soon. For now, he needs his rest. I’ll go back later today and see how he’s doing, see if he’s up for visitors. Now, off to bed, all of you! Your father wouldn’t want you running yourselves so ragged, would he?”

With some grumbling, her children headed out of the kitchen, with George giving Eli a furtive sideways look, and Mrs. Weasley sank down at the table, looking exhausted. Sirius stepped in then, sitting beside her and talking to her softly, clearly getting his own update, so Eli hesitantly released Remus’s arm and gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “You just have this habit of—of vanishing.”

“It’s an old habit, I’m afraid,” he told her, keeping his voice down as well. “But I’ll try and stop doing it so much.”

That was enough to appease her, for the time being. So, weary down to her bones from the night she’d had, Eli pulled him in for a quick hug, even knowing it would surprise him, and kissed his cheek—just like she used to do with Maxwell Chaplain, back when she thought _he_ was her father, when he didn’t dislike her for her abilities. “Night, Remus,” she told him warmly, before heading out of the kitchen and upstairs. She really hoped she wouldn’t have any nightmares… There wouldn’t be anyone to wake her this time.


	16. Of Tinsel and Blue Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, my life kind of took a turn into crazy-land - I've been working as ASM for a local theatre production and I took on a TON of responsibility, and it's completely eaten my life. Therefore, you get a double-update! Thank you for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy!!!

Christmas morning, Eli snuck downstairs before anyone else was awake, to lay out her present for everyone. They already had a tree, at. Mrs. Weasley’s insistence, but what with visiting the hospital nearly every day and frequent meetings of the Order, there hadn’t been any time to decorate properly. So, standing in the kitchen—what functioned more as a drawing room than the _actual_ drawing room—Eli raised her wand and began.

First she expanded a small section of the ceiling to allow for more height on the tree, and then enlarged the tree itself, until it stood over twelve feet tall, as much as she dared in an enclosed space, even if it was magically expanded. She then decorated the tree, keeping the special ornaments Mrs. Weasley had brought completely untouched, but adding strands of tinsel, popcorn balls, beautiful glass baubles in every color, silver bells, anything she could think of. Strands of enchanted lights wound up the branches, flickering softly to look like tiny candles, glowing all sorts of different colors so the whole thing had a faintly kaleidoscopic effect. She topped it with a glowing gold star, which spun and reflected the tree’s light off every facet, emitting a faint chime to finish the whole effect. She’d safely placed the presents away while she’d worked, but she levitated them back underneath afterwards, adding her own to the group as well.

The last step was the rest of the house—Eli stood at the bottom of the stairs, took a deep breath to prepare herself, and then flicked her wand in a wide arc. As the magic left her body, decorations began to spread throughout the house. Hardly anything was left untouched. Mistletoe in every hallway, holly on every picture frame, tinsel around all the bannisters, fairy lights on all the archways… The whole house came alive with the holiday spirit. _This_ was her gift to everyone, among all the chaos and sorrow that was hanging around—she only hoped it would help.

“Er…what’s all this?” Sirius asked, as he shuffled down the stairs sleepily.

Eli turned to face him, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. She hadn’t expected anyone to be up yet, it was hardly six in the morning. “I—didn’t think anybody would be about yet,” she murmured, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Just something to…brighten Christmas up for everyone, that’s all.”

He rubbed at his eyes and peered around himself, tilting his head a bit as he took note of the tinsel winding its way up the staircase, a pretty swirl of red and green if she did say so herself. “So you…decorated?” he asked curiously, with a shake of his head.

“I hope that’s all right,” Eli hedged anxiously. What if he was upset? It _was_ his house, after all.

But Sirius just grinned a bit roguishly and shook his head. “Absolutely. This is _brilliant_ , Eli. I don’t think the place has ever felt this cheery, my parents never bothered, it always looked like a bloody mausoleum. This is much better. It’s a nice bit of magic, too. Very inspired. Where’d you learn it? I doubt anyone at Hogwarts is teaching you things like this.”

She winced and licked her lips nervously. The truth was a bit sadder than she usually cared to admit, but she didn’t necessarily want to lie to him either. “Oh, well… I learnt it myself.”

“Just for fun?” he asked dryly.

Eli narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe you should’ve been a Slytherin, if you’re going to be that pushy.”

He snorted. “I’m just naturally curious, that’s all. But fine, secrets aren’t exactly rare in this house, I won’t press. Anyway, since you’re up, care to help me get breakfast ready? Molly absolutely insists on a solid Christmas breakfast but she’s been through far too much recently to be running herself thin today.”

A bit reluctantly, she joined him in his task, mostly sending ingredients his way and decorating the kitchen further, conjuring a nice Christmas runner for the table and, at Sirius’s bidding, summoning a beautiful silver candelabra from the dining room as well. After a time, Eli’s hackles lowered, and she was able to stop feeling so defensive, instead just chattering amiably and getting to know him a bit better. He was, as far as she understood, her father’s oldest friend at this point, so he was able to give her a little more insight into Remus’s character and past, without having to pry too hard.

George stumbled into the kitchen around eight, Fred right behind him, and mumbled, “I smell bacon. _Please_ tell me I smell bacon.”

Eli smirked at him. “You do, but you’ve got to wait until everyone else is awake,” she chided, crossing the kitchen to give him a quick kiss. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in tighter, and she _knew_ Fred would be making faces at them but she just didn’t care in the moment…

Until Sirius laughed, “Blimey, don’t let Moony catch you doing that.”

She pulled back reluctantly, keeping one hand on George’s chest while narrowing her eyes at Sirius. “Killjoy,” she sneered.

He grinned right back. “Better than being a snake.”

Fred’s jaw dropped, but Eli just snickered, not taking it to heart. Through the morning they’d developed a pretty decent rapport upon discovering they were both rather thick-skinned, and could hurl insults without causing any offense. “Or a mangy mutt.”

“I bathe frequently!” he shot back easily.

“Sure, Padfoot,” Eli teased.

George stepped back then, exchanging a confused look with Fred. “Hang on a minute,” he blurted.

Fred stared at her in shock. “Did you say…”

“Padfoot?” they finished together.

Eli grinned across at Sirius. She’d never gotten around to explaining about the Marauder’s Map, with Umbridge darkening every damned hallway, and then the DA taking off… But maybe it was better this way. Sirius himself could field all their questions.

“You never told them?” Sirius asked, amused.

With a sweep of her arm, Eli told the twins, “George, Fred—I give you Padfoot, one of the original creators of the Marauder’s Map.”

“What?!”

“No way!”

Sirius beamed at them as they flooded him with questions, fielding them as best as he could—pointedly without revealing how exactly they made the map. The twins looked at Eli almost jealously when it came out that Remus was one of the creators too, as if it made her somehow cooler being the daughter of a Marauder. She almost had to agree with them.

By the time most of the rest of the house was awake, the twins had completely stolen Sirius away from the stove, but Eli didn’t care—she was switching between using magic to assist herself and simply doing things the muggle way, thoroughly enjoying herself just listening to the twins’ interrogation. Most of their siblings knew about the Map at this stage, so they joined in as they arose, until Sirius was regaling them with all sorts of tales of his, Remus’s, James’s, and Peter’s hijinks when they were in school.

Eli was painfully aware of Remus’s absence through the morning, though she didn’t voice it, and thankfully nobody else did. Well, all right, George did, but she wasn’t sure if he noticed because it was stressing her out or not. Once Harry arrived, past lunchtime, Eli waited until he’d reunited with his godfather and then gone in with his friends to pull Sirius aside and ask, “Padfoot… Is Remus all right? He still hasn’t been down and I’m getting worried…”

Sirius gently placed a hand on her back, guiding her just outside the kitchen before he answered her. “Moony is…well…not the best with crowds of people. And he seems to think his very presence brings the mood down. He swore he’d be down for dinner, at least.” Giving her a supportive squeeze on her shoulder, he added, “Just let him be, Eli. He’ll be down when he’s ready.”

She crossed her arms, feeling a bit stubborn and petulant—to cover the fact that she was hurt. “Yes, but…it’s the first time I’ve…we’ve…”

He winced. “I know… But he doesn’t mean anything by it, I promise you.”

“I’d like to hear that for myself,” Eli grumbled, heading back in to rejoin everyone else.

But Sirius caught her wrist. “He’s been staying in the farthest corner room on the same floor as me. Just—tell your boyfriend where you’re going first, or he’ll drive us all mad asking after you.”

Eli felt her heart lifting at that—at least Sirius was on her side in this, in thinking it was a bit off for Remus not to come down for Christmas. So she hurried to fetch George, dragging him out of the kitchen and down the same hallway a little before she let him speak, though not for lack of trying.

“What’s going on?” he finally asked, frowning at her. “You’ve been off all day. Is it really just because Remus hasn’t come down?”

She tugged at a piece of her hair uncomfortably. “Well…yes,” she admitted. “But he _is_ my father, I’d think he’d want to…to…”

George softened immediately. “You’re worried he doesn’t want to spend Christmas with you,” he murmured, reaching out and tugging her in close. “Aw, Eli, I hadn’t even considered… I mean, it’s obvious to the rest of us he wants to be in your life, I didn’t think you’d still be worrying about that.” He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “’Course you are, though.”

Eli huffed and crossed her arms. “What does that mean?”

“Just that you don’t trust how anyone else feels about you,” George snorted. “Even me. But I like to think that you’ll come around eventually.”

She stared at the ground, unsure how to feel. Realistically, she knew he was right, she always worried how people felt about her, and nowadays she felt that came from Evangeline’s spell—Eli had lived her whole life among fake emotions, just facsimiles of what _real_ love would feel like… So it wasn’t a wonder that she struggled accepting people’s emotions were genuine. Yet some part of her wanted to deny it, to start a stupid argument over something she knew wasn’t even the truth.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t get all wrapped up in your head,” he murmured gently. “It’s all right, love. Look, go on and talk to him, just—try not to…go in accusing him of things, okay? Seriously, you didn’t see him the day you rushed off, but I did.” George shook his head, twisting his mouth up grimly. “Thought he was going to pass out, he was panicking so hard. And I mean, I’m not saying I wasn’t a complete wreck, because I was, but I’ve gotten to see you handle yourself before. He hasn’t. Honestly, Sirius said later that Remus must’ve figured your life was in danger to lose his head that badly.”

Shame bloomed hot and tight in her chest. “I didn’t know it was that bad,” she whispered.

George shook his head quickly. “I’m not trying to make you feel poorly about it, I just thought you should know. Go easy on him, at least until things balance out a bit. Right?”

“Right,” she agreed reluctantly. He was right—what she’d wanted to do was go up there all injured and defensive, because it was how she felt… But how much would that solve? How many bloody times had she and Remus ended up racing away from each other because one of them got too emotional? Honestly, that right there should’ve been enough proof that they were related, because they did the _exact_ same damned thing.

So, forcing her hurt feelings down, Eli headed upstairs with Remus’s present tucked safely under her arm—George had kindly fetched it for her—reminding herself over and over that she needed to stay calm and not go at him. It just wouldn’t help.

She paused anxiously outside his door, stopping her hand just a few inches from the wood. God, she hadn’t even stopped to wonder if he’d want her there, if he’d be angry…

_No, he won’t be,_ she chided herself. _He’s been nothing but lovely to you, and he said he’s proud you have his damned surname, that he’s happy you’re his daughter. Don’t be an idiot. You’ll only cause problems that way._

With a shaky breath, Eli knocked on the door.

After a moment, she heard shuffling inside, and finally the door opened just a bit. “Padfoot, I told you, I don’t want-” But Remus paused, cutting himself off sharply when he realized who exactly was at his door. “Eli… I’m sorry, I thought you were…” He stopped again, clearing his throat a bit nervously, in her opinion. “Did…did Sirius send you?”

She regarded him for a moment, reserving her initial reaction, since what she really wanted was to snap at him, and just…just gave herself time to think instead. He looked so _tired_ , exhausted down to his bones, with deep bruises under his eyes and a slump to his shoulders. Eli almost gasped, stunned by his appearance, because she _knew_ the full moon wasn’t for eleven days, so it shouldn’t be affecting him just yet. But she held it in, not wanting to offend or upset him, and instead just told him gently, “I was worried, that’s all. He told me where you were.”

Remus glanced away, looking a bit ashamed. “I’m sorry to worry you, Eli. It’s just—a touch of exhaustion, that’s all. Nothing to bother with.”

“You’re forgetting I’m a Slytherin,” she pointed out, almost teasing, as she didn’t want to come off too harshly. “I’m a far better liar than you, and I can spot a poor lie a kilometer away. You don’t have to tell me, that’s okay, but you don’t need to lie to me either. I’m not a child, you know. I can handle the truth.”

“I know that,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “God, you sound like your mother…”

Eli winced, recoiling from him. She hadn’t expected that, especially not with him sounding so…so torn up, like it was the worst thing she could’ve been. “I—I’m sorry, I…”

“No, I—dammit…” He groaned and pressed his hands to his face. “This is exactly why I decided to stay up here today, I’m not…quite myself…” Giving her a weak, sad look, he mumbled, “I’m so sorry, Eli. I don’t want to ruin your Christmas, that’s all.”

She decided this whole…soft approach wasn’t entirely working for her. So she pushed the door open with her foot, stepping inside and making him stagger backwards a bit, stunned. “Right, well… My Christmas will be a far sight better with you in it,” she proclaimed, giving him a dry stare. “So if you won’t join me, I’ll just have to join you, I suppose.” In a few moments, she surveyed the room, while he was still sort of recovering—it had absolutely nothing personal to it, less than even his office in Hogwarts had, as if he weren’t planning on staying long or perhaps didn’t feel comfortable moving his things in. Either way, it tugged at her heart in a certain painful manner, making her glad she was forcing her company on him.

“You should go back to the others,” he told her, a bit more firmly now. “They’ll be wondering where you’ve gotten to.”

Eli raised an eyebrow. “I told George where I was going, and Padfoot knows too. They’ll cover for me.”

That, more than anything, made him soften. “When did you start calling him that?”

“It just started happening, honestly,” she admitted, grinning sheepishly. It was a pretty new level of comfort, but once she’d found out he was one of the Marauders, she’d felt like she sort of knew him—she’d seen the insults he’d personally enchanted into the Map, after all, and for several years the four had been a big part of hers, Simon’s, and the twins’ lives. In trying to extend a little extra friendship his way, partly because she felt he must be very lonely, she’d fallen into the habit. “Besides, I did use the Map for almost five years, you know. Sort of feels like I know you all.”

Remus passed a hand over his face, weary. “I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

But Eli just waved it off. She wasn’t really interested in apologies, honestly, because what she really had wanted out of this was just to spend time with him, to open things up a bit more when they weren’t, well, arguing. If she tried to take some moral high ground it’d all be for naught. “I really can go, if that’s what you want,” she told him, though it pained her to say it. “I’m not trying to make you feel worse.”

“The only thing making me feel worse is my complete inability to act like a normal person today,” he grumbled. “You aren’t doing anything wrong.”

She nodded calmly, accepting that. “It’s not—the fifth that’s bothering you, is it?” she hedged.

Remus’s head shot up in astonishment. “You… Did you memorize the date?”

“Of course I did,” she dismissed. “What? It matters to me now, and—hey, now don’t look at me like that.” Eli crossed her arms, frustrated he was looking so injured. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’d just like to keep track, so I know what’s going on, and can keep my head on straight in case you need anything. That’s all. Anyway, it’s eleven days out, wouldn’t it be a bit early? Is something wrong?” A different thought occurred to her. “Did something go wrong last time?”

He shook his head wearily. “It’s only that, well…” Remus glowered at the floor. “I shouldn’t put this on you, and on Christmas of all days.”

Eli sat down on the room’s little couch, and patted the spot beside her. “C’mon, tell me,” she urged. “Clearly it’s something big or it wouldn’t be such a burden on you.” This was something she could work with, she could just _feel_ it, something beyond these vague insinuations that he was _‘off’_ that day.

Reluctantly, he sat down beside her, sinking down like he was relieved to be off his feet. Then he stared off into a corner of the room as he ground out, “It seems…that Severus is going to be too busy this holiday to assist me on the fifth. Thus far, it hasn’t been an issue, but I assume Dumbledore has him doing work for the Order, which means…”

“…he can’t brew your potion!” Eli swatted him on the shoulder, just like she always did with her friends—but it made him jump and stare at her in confusion. “Sorry… It’s just…” No, she wasn’t going to back down, she was cross with him. “Are you completely mental or just exhausted?” she demanded, folding her arms. “ _I’ll_ make it for you. Honestly. Why wouldn’t you ask me? I’ve done it before.”

Dropping his hand from his shoulder, he explained slowly, “Well, it’s far too expensive, for a start. And I didn’t want to ask that much of you again, I never should have in the first place, it’s an enormous responsibility and-”

But she cut him off once more, thoroughly exasperated. “ _Remus_. Stop it. Goodness, it’s as if you think you don’t matter to me at all. I’ll just write Professor Snape, he can send me everything I’m missing, and Padfoot’s already lent me a room to work in. He even brought out his family’s old equipment for me, so I’m completely set up.” Eli beamed up at him, beyond pleased that she could help—and even though part of her wanted to be insulted he hadn’t asked, she knew it wasn’t because he doubted her ability. No, instead it was a startling parallel to her own problems with inadequacy.

“There’s absolutely no way I can ask that of you,” Remus denied, shaking his head fiercely. “Not again, Eli.”

She shrugged lightly. “Well, then it’s a good thing you’re not asking. I’m just offering. Anyway, you can’t stop me, can you? If I go to all that trouble of _writing_ him and then brewing a potion I’ve already worked with— _so_ much trouble, you understand—then you’ll hardly turn it down, will you?” Eli giggled at the stunned expression on his face.

“You…you’d really do that for me?” he asked quietly.

She rolled her eyes. “I already have before, haven’t I? Now, was that the only thing getting to you, hm? Or is there something else waiting in the wings? Because I happen to know—since I had a hand in it—that dinner is going to be _excellent_ , and it’d be a terrible shame to miss it.” Then she pulled his present out and waved it at him, smirking. “Oh, and you haven’t really seen it yet, but I always give excellent presents. You’d absolutely hate to miss yours.”

Remus shook his head at her antics, thankfully amused now instead of wallowing in this pit of despair he’d tumbled into. “Go downstairs, like this?” He gave her a dry look. “Maybe your Christmas won’t be ruined, but I’m certain everyone else’s will be.”

“Ex _cuse_ me, you’re speaking to a future Healer here,” Eli told him primly. She flicked her wand at the door, cracking it open just a little as she summoned her Healer’s bag. “As if I wouldn’t be prepared for anything…” From one of the little pouches, all of which she’d magically extended, she pulled a large glass bottle and set it on the table. “I modified this myself, from a basic Pepperup Potion. That one’s most effective on colds, but once it got round that I’m quite good at making my own potions, I had a whole mess of people asking me for one to get rid of hangover symptoms. That’s a bit trickier, but I did manage to put this one together while working on that—it’s got elements of the Pepperup Potion and the Draught of Peace, and it sort of _masks_ the symptoms rather than fixes them, for hangovers or illness or what have you. So, all the typically obvious signs, plus headaches and weariness.” She pulled one of her little vials out and placed it on the table as well, keeping her head down because she _knew_ he was staring at her in awe. Then she measured out first one tablespoon, but then a second one, after some consideration, before passing it up to him. “I actually got it to taste pretty decent too, but that was a whole other process…”

_Stop your bloody rambling,_ she told herself firmly.

He accepted the vial and, to her surprise, downed the potion without another question. Apparently he really did trust her abilities. “Now, if only you can get Wolfsbane to taste better,” Remus teased, grinning wryly.

Eli cleaned the vial with a wave of her wand and stowed everything again, wrinkling her nose at him. “Ugh, that’s all the aconite, I’m afraid. No way to get that horrid taste out.”

Before her eyes, she could see him perk up, the potion doing its work quickly and without a lot of fuss—but then again, that’s how she’d engineered it. Still, it was nice to see it actually _work_ , especially on something besides a post-party hangover. “Feeling a little better?” she asked tentatively, hardly daring to hope he’d feel up to joining everyone. It _was_ a lot to ask of him, now that she really got down to it, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“I am. Thank you for that.” Remus smiled at her kindly. “And yes, to answer the question you’re not willing to ask—I do feel up to coming downstairs.”

Eli popped to her feet, tying the bag on almost absently as she gave him a shy grin. “I’m glad.” She hesitated, then tacked on, “Oh, and you’ll get to see what I did to the house. Honestly, I thought Padfoot might be cross with me, but he said he liked it, actually.”

Remus quirked one eyebrow up. “What you…did to the house?”

“Mmhmm.” She smirked. “And no, I’m not going to tell you! You’ve just got to see for yourself.” Not giving herself—or him—time to doubt any further, Eli stepped out into the hallway to wait on him, pleased when he followed her out and shut the door behind him. Determination could go a long way, but only if she wasn’t combative. She’d have to thank George for that later. Instead she just led Remus towards the stairs, telling him what had already happened in the day—the twins had nearly ruined the pies she’d baked ahead of time, by levitating them across the room and then almost _dropping_ them, for example—and filling him in that Harry had arrived safely, and Mrs. Weasley was at the hospital with Mr. Weasley for the time being.

“Sounds like an eventful holiday,” Remus mused, as they rounded the last landing of the stairs. “Hasn’t it been stressful for you?” He gestured around them. “Especially if you did all _this_. And it is lovely, by the way, I didn’t tell you that.”

Eli couldn’t help but preen a little bit. “I wanted to liven the place up a little, you know. Make it feel cheerier.” Then she sobered, answering his question. “And I mean…it’s been a little stressful, I suppose, but I’m just glad I can help everyone. They’ve all been put through the runner recently, so I thought it’d be nice to have a good day among it all.”

Remus gently put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. “You have too, Eli. Make sure you take care of yourself as well.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine,” she dismissed. “Honestly, I know I’ve had my share of panic, but my—my life has gotten infinitely better overall. I’ve got nothing to complain about.” They reached the kitchen before he could reply, and anything he might’ve said was cut off by a great yell from Sirius, who bounded across the kitchen to drag Remus with him, chattering on about something with all the enthusiasm in the world. She couldn’t even understand him with how quickly he was talking. It didn’t matter, though, because Remus certainly looked like he understood.

George sidled up to her and nodded in their direction. “Worked your magic, did you?” he asked, smirking.

Eli jabbed two fingers into his side, not quite hard enough to hurt. “Just talked a few things out, that’s all. And used that new potion of mine, the one I was trying to make a hangover cure? The one I’ve been calling a Brightening Elixir.”

“Oh, excellent. Well, you’re just in time, too. The girls took over cooking while you were away, and they’ve said dinner’s nearly ready.” George dropped a kiss atop her head, maybe conscious of Remus being there, and added, “Then we might get into the presents, I’m not sure. We were trying to wait for mum to get back, but…”

She squeezed his hand tightly. “I don’t think anyone will mind waiting a bit longer,” she told him gently. “But I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

Despite her assurances, though, Mrs. Weasley didn’t turn up when they all sat down for dinner. Eli watched all the Weasley children handling it rather enviously well, laughing and seeming totally at ease. She distributed Christmas crackers, ones she’d picked up in Hogsmeade before the break, and soon the room was filled with little magical gifts, like endlessly-spinning tops and whistles charmed to make different animal sounds. The crackers’ paper crowns even snowed for a short while.

And then, only a bit after they’d started dinner, none other than Mrs. Weasley came in—but she wasn’t alone. In moments, the whole room was alight with new energy, because she’d brought Mr. Weasley home as well. He was definitely worse for wear, still bound to a wheelchair and exhausted, but it made all the difference to have him there.

After dinner, everyone crowded around the tree to exchange presents before dessert. Eli helped Mrs. Weasley keep track of everything, ensuring the twins got the right packages, keeping them from getting into anyone else’s gifts—honestly, her job was almost always to keep track of those two. She perched a bit anxiously on a stool near the tree while everybody delved in, watching to make sure everybody was happy with theirs.

To the twins, she’d gifted them something for the shop they were now well and truly planning to open. They’d even gotten funds for it, a secret they’d confided in her—Harry had given them his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament, so they could actually go through with their dream. In honor of that, she’d written, tested, and finalized the recipe for the love potion they wanted to sell, something less powerful than Amortentia but still quite strong. Then together, she and Simon had created a potential logo for the shop, which the twins had already thought to name _Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes_ , complete with colors and little fireworks shooting out every so often. Simon had drawn it, since he was quite good at art, and Eli had worked the enchantments. They’d been ever so pleased with the final product.

All around the room, she’d managed to find some really good gifts—from brand-new Quidditch gloves for Ginny, a quill enchanted to memorize what you wrote with it and then quiz you on it later for Hermione, even to a potion Harry could put on his glasses to keep them from breaking or smudging, she was entirely pleased with what she’d done. But honestly, the only gift she was worried about was Remus’s. She was so anxious she couldn’t even open her own presents until Simon practically begged her to open his—a miniature silver snake with green gems for eyes, which could slither around her wrist to become a bracelet—which started a cascade of her opening everything.

Well…everything except Remus’s gift to her, which she could _see_ him fumbling with, trying to figure out where to place it, to keep it safe, out of reach of the twins… It had her name written on a little card stuck to the front, so she absolutely knew it was hers, she just wasn’t certain why he wouldn’t give it to her yet.

Finally, though, once all the presents were open and the others had gone back to dessert, chattering loudly about the pies she’d baked, and the Christmas pudding she’d absolutely _insisted_ upon, flaming brandy and all, Remus caught her eye and she followed him back to the tree, settling on the floor just in front of it. “Is everything all right?” she asked him worriedly. “You aren’t—regretting joining us, are you?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, absolutely not. Actually, I…haven’t had much of a real Christmas in years. It’s been wonderful.” Smiling, he told her, “I only wanted to give you your gift a bit more…privately, I suppose. In case you aren’t really happy with it.”

Eli eyed him. “You haven’t opened yours, either.”

“Didn’t seem fair,” he laughed, nodding. Then, visibly trying to look calm—god, Gryffindors just couldn’t lie, could they?—he passed over her present and set about opening his own.

She went at hers slowly, really wanting him to open his first. It had been agony wondering if Sirius would let it slip to him, seeing as he’d been the one to assist her in procuring it in the first place, but thankfully she could see genuine curiosity on Remus’s face as he pulled out a flat, solid rectangular object, covered in a soft slipcase. Eli’s hands stilled on her own present as he slipped the protective cover off and flipped the picture frame around.

And then all the blood drained from his face.

Eli had expected a reaction like that, though, so it wasn’t necessarily worrying just yet.

“Where…” His voice cracked and he had to try again. “Where did you get this?”

She nodded at Sirius, where he was now animatedly describing a prank he and James Potter had pulled back in their very first year. “I asked Padfoot to help me, see, since I’m not very familiar with magical photographs yet. It was tucked away with my birth records, I missed it the first time but I found it later… I think my—my mother wanted me to know what you look like, so she put that in there in case I couldn’t find you or something.”

Remus’s face slowly regained some of its color, though he still looked utterly shocked. For his present, Eli had gotten Sirius to help her enlarge a photograph—she’d gotten the frame herself, in Hogsmeade. It was a photo of young Evangeline and Remus, likely taken right after they’d graduated according to Sirius, who thought Lily Evans might have taken it for them. In the photo, Remus looked young and infinitely more carefree, with an easy crooked smile and a spark in his eyes. Evangeline was, well, quite similar to Eli herself, but still different, still her own person—with her hair tied in two plaits down her shoulders, a blue and bronze scarf wound loosely around her shoulders, and a brilliant smile, she looked utterly elated with her situation. Eli had watched the two for a bit, in her original copy. Her mother was mischievous, dipping between each side of him, making him chase her down a little, while Remus just laughed and looked at her with so much love in his eyes. Every so often, Evangeline would pause, lift onto her tiptoes, and kiss him, either full on the mouth or on his cheek, making him turn red as a cherry and scrunch his face up at her. They both just looked so…so _happy_. It was the kind of sugary-sweet love Eli scarcely believed existed, yet it was right there, evident in the way the two couldn’t even let go of each other for a moment, even in the photograph.

“I…thought this was gone forever,” Remus breathed, stunned. “This was the day we graduated from Hogwarts. We all went into Hogsmeade to celebrate, and Lily—Harry’s mother—insisted she take photographs of everyone. I have most of the others, somewhere, but this…” He closed his eyes a moment, visibly overcome. “I had no idea where it had gone.”

Eli hesitantly reached out and squeezed his hand, trying to comfort him even though she wasn’t sure he really _needed_ to be comforted. “I…don’t want to upset you,” she murmured hesitantly.

His eyes snapped open. “No, no, absolutely not, this is…” Remus gave her a watery smile. “This is amazing, Eli. I can’t thank you enough.” Wincing, he added, “Your present’s not going to seem anywhere near as good now, though.”

“I’m always better than everyone at presents,” Eli laughed, relieved. He liked it! She’d taken a bit of a risk and it had paid off. Thankfully she hadn’t lost her touch. “But I bet yours’ll be great, yours are always wonderful.”

Remus waved her off, but still looked a bit impatient for her to open hers—so she hurried to do so, feeling much better now that her gift for him was out of the way. And she’d meant what she said, she was even wearing his songbird earrings that day. Not that she figured it’d change his mind, she was beginning to understand that she’d gotten her stubbornness from _both_ her parents.

The box she unwrapped was little, no bigger than the palm of her hand. Inside she found a ring hung on a sturdy cord, clearly made for a man judging by its size, weathered with age. On the top it bore a crest—a wolf with eyes of polished moonstone clutching three arrows in its mouth, with one paw resting atop a book, and a crown of laurel on its head. Eli turned the ring over in her hand, passing her thumb across the wolf a bit reverently as she examined it, finally spotting a phrase engraved on the inside of the band. _‘Luctor et emergo,’_ it read.

“What is this?” she asked softly, finally lifting her gaze from the ring.

Remus gave her a tentative smile. “That…has been in my family a very long time. I remember my grandfather wearing it when I was just a boy, actually, and telling me about _his_ great-grandfather wearing it. I know it’s quite…ridiculously ironic, but my family crest is what’s on that ring, the wolf with the arrows and such. What you see inside is the motto, it’s a Latin phrase meaning _I struggle and I emerge_. I…” He shifted, looking anxious. “I’ve had it since my father passed just after the first war, and well, traditionally it’s been handed down when the previous generation passes, but I wanted you to have it now.”

Eli stared at the ring with far more appreciation now, understanding flooding her with warmth. He wanted her to be part of his family, this was his way of showing it, she was certain. Completely overwhelmed for a moment, she leapt at him and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she dared, pressing her face into his shoulder to hide the way her eyes had welled up with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re very welcome,” he murmured. And as he put his arms around her in return, Eli was relieved to hear he sounded just as choked up as she did.

\--

A week before the full moon, Eli holed up in the spare room she’d been using for potion-making and, with the ingredients Professor Snape had deigned to send her, brewed enough Wolfsbane to last Remus through the full moon and after, just in case—but she wasn’t alone. George sat in with her, helping where he could—usually with fetching ingredients or simply watching the cauldron while she dealt with handling a delicate ingredient herself—which made the whole process far easier than the first time, when she’d done it entirely alone. She had fallen in love with the equipment Sirius had loaned her, so much that he’d gifted it to her for Christmas, but it was still hard not to think of it as _his_. It made her inordinately cautious not to harm anything.

For New Year’s Eve, everyone stayed at Grimmauld Place, but on New Year’s Day George spirited Eli out of the house and took her into London for lunch, just the two of them, which was absolutely lovely since they’d hardly gotten any time alone over the holidays. They went to a place he’d picked out himself, quite proudly, having enlisted the help of the concierge in a local hotel—the man was all too happy to offer recommendations once he heard George’s reasoning, apparently, and was able to direct him to the cute little bistro. Eli was astonished to find George had even gotten muggle money, specifically for their date, so he could do it all without magic.

“You’re completely remarkable, did you know that?” Eli told him afterwards, as they joined the crowds on Regent Street. “Mental, but remarkable too.”

He grinned and tickled at her side lightly. “Aw, don’t I get more credit than that?”

“You being mental is a compliment,” she giggled. “Sane people are no fun. Oh!” Eli couldn’t keep the childish excitement out of her voice, but honestly, who could blame her? “Hamley’s! Have you ever been?” she asked him urgently.

George gave her a bewildered look and shook his head. “We hardly ever go to muggle shops,” he pointed out, smirking.

She was too thrilled to be embarrassed, though. “Well we’ve _got_ to go in, then! You’ll love it, I promise, it’s just brilliant. It’s five storeys, and the whole thing is toys. The entire store. All five storeys! They’ve even got proper joke toys, you might get some ideas.” Eager and unwilling to be talked down from it, Eli grabbed his hand and pulled him through the throng of people, right into the store.

Almost immediately, an employee approached them and held out his hand. “Welcome!” he greeted, grinning broadly.

Eli spotted the joy buzzer on his palm, but decided to have a little fun and prank George for once. So when he reached out and shook the employee’s hand, the shout he gave was completely genuine, as was the astonishment on his face as he stared between Eli and the Hamley’s employee a bit helplessly.

The man smirked and held up his hand. “Just a joy buzzer, mate!”

“Joy buzzer?” George asked, squinting at it.

Mistaking his confusion, the employee nodded and pointed at a nearby shelf. “Got ‘em right over there, if you’re interested!”

Eli didn’t want any awkward conversations to arise, so she told him quickly, “We’ll check it out!” and hauled George away, still grinning madly. “Sorry,” she laughed, once they were out of earshot. “I just wanted to have a little fun.”

A look of comprehension came over his face. “You pranked me!” George smiled wickedly and ruffled her hair with both hands, completely earning the shriek she let out.

“Yes, yes I did, and I don’t regret it!” Eli retorted, though she couldn’t wipe the ridiculous smile off her face. “I hardly ever get to one-up you. Joy buzzers are harmless, they just give you a little shock on your hand—it’s one of the most common muggle pranks, honestly.” She picked one off the shelf and passed him the box, letting him read it for himself.

“You know, Freddie and I have talked about having some muggle joke items in our shop,” George confided in her. “Not exactly a money-spinner, mind you, but a good curiosity anyway.”

Eli snatched a basket from nearby and deposited the joy buzzer inside, pointing out, “It’s rubbish to just window-shop, honestly. I’ve never come here and not bought something, and I’m not about to stop now.”

They worked their way through the shop slowly, George asking Eli a myriad of questions about muggle toys, constantly amazed when they didn’t _do_ anything—for example, he was stunned that the stuffed animals didn’t speak or make their proper animal sounds most of the time. Nor could they move. He was delighted by the muggle board games section, though, with a particular interest in Jenga, Trivial Pursuit, and most amusingly regular old playing cards. Eli bought a set of Jenga and a deck of cards, but refused Trivial Pursuit on the grounds that it wouldn’t be any fun to play with a bunch of wizards who knew _nothing_ about muggle facts.

When they reached the fourth storey, where Eli was—to her own embarrassment—eyeing the beautiful porcelain dolls displayed in glass cases, she suddenly tuned into a song playing in the store and turned to George in elation. “Oh, mum used to listen to this all the time!” When he turned to her, confused, she added, “I mean my muggle mum.” She was surprised to find she still remembered all the words to the song, despite it having been _years_ since she’d heard it last.

With everything happening in her life, finding her real family—well, her father, at least—and a place in the world with the Weasleys, and Sirius, et cetera, Eli couldn’t recall ever feeling happier, in fact. She supposed that was why she just…completely lost all her inhibitions for a moment. Grinning so wide her cheeks hurt, Eli set down their basket and grabbed George’s hands, whirling him around as she sang along to the song, forgetting for a moment that they were in public, that people were likely watching them, completely letting go of everything else and just enjoying the moment she was living in.

 

_Sun is shinin’ in the sky,_

_There ain’t a cloud in sight,_

_It’s stopped rainin’, everybody’s in a play_

_And don’t you know,_

_It’s a beautiful new day, hey hey_

_Runnin’ down the avenue,_

_See how the sun shines brightly in the city,_

_On the streets where once was pity,_

_Mr. Blue Sky is living here today, hey hey_

_Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why,_

_You had to hide away for so long,_

_Where did we go wrong?_

_Hey you with the pretty face,_

_Welcome to the human race,_

_A celebration, Mr. Blue Sky’s up there waitin’,_

_And today is the day we’ve waited for,_

_Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why,_

_You had to hide away for so long,_

_Where did we go wrong?_

_Hey there mister blue,_

_We’re so pleased to be with you,_

_Look around, see what you do,_

_Everybody smiles at you,_

_Mister blue, you did it right,_

_But soon comes mister night, creepin’ over,_

_Now his hand is on your shoulder,_

_Never mind, I’ll remember you this,_

_I’ll remember you this way,_

_Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why,_

_You had to hide away for so long,_

_Where did we go wrong?_

_Hey there mister blue,_

_We’re so pleased to be with you,_

_Look around, see what you do,_

_Everybody smiles at you._

 

When the song ended, Eli sort of came back to herself and turned bright red, stunned that she’d made such a fool out of herself. George probably thought she was an absolute nutter! “Sorry about that,” she murmured, pushing hair from her face.

But then George grinned so widely and kissed her, right in front of everyone, spinning her in a circle and actually lifting her feet off the ground. Eli laughed, feeling free again. What was she thinking? When had he ever judged her, really? He’d never been anything but supportive, wonderful, wholly on her side… She was so bloody lucky to have him, honestly.

George set her down and pressed his forehead against hers, his arms encircling her. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much it drives me completely mad.”

Eli’s chest felt tight, her breath caught in her throat… She felt so light she thought she could actually fly away if he weren’t holding her. “I love you too,” she told him, twining her fingers into his shirt. “More than anything.”

By the time they made it back to Grimmauld Place, inseparable at their hands and over the moon in love, Eli’s face was genuinely sore from how much she’d smiled and laughed, and it was the best feeling in the whole world, she thought. They’d bought a handful of games and some joke toys for the twins to look at, but all Eli could really focus on once they made it back was getting George upstairs and into her room so she could snog the absolute life out of him like she’d been wanting to all bloody day. Thankfully, he was all too happy to oblige, getting Fred to make up some excuse while they disappeared, off into their own world for just a little while longer. Of course they’d have to come back down to earth sometime, Eli knew that, but for the moment she didn’t care—she was in love!


	17. Miserable Happenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the double-update chapter! Again, I love you all and THANK YOU for continuing to read this! Enjoy!!

Going back to Hogwarts after the holiday she’d had felt so unnatural. For the first time, Eli didn’t really _want_ to return, though she knew it was necessary. But she missed the easy familial feeling of the holidays, how at home she’d felt among everyone. Eli knew she’d really found her place in the world now. And it seemed the more time she spent away from the Chaplains, the more the spell Evangeline had worked just…faded. While part of her wanted to be upset and wanted to miss them, as they had raised her, when she took the time to actually think about how their relationship would have been if this hadn’t happened, well… It wouldn’t have been anything good, to say the least.

The first night back, Eli was at dinner with the Gryffindors, as per usual, when Harry quite suddenly sat down next to her. “Oh, hey,” she greeted brightly.

He gave her a sort of tense smile as he nodded. “Hey, Eli. I was hoping, erm, that you were still up to help me with the next lesson?” Leaning in and lowering his voice, he clarified, “Patronuses.”

Realization dawned on her. Back in Hogsmeade, when the DA had been formed, Eli had agreed to help him teach everyone the Patronus Charm, owing to her already having a corporeal one. It had been a spur of the moment agreement, but really, her only reservation was that she thought she’d be rubbish at teaching. As long as she was only assisting… “Sure, of course. I’m happy to help out.”

“Great.” He grinned at her before turning to Ron and Hermione and joining them in conversation, but Eli wasn’t put out. They weren’t exactly _friends_ , not in that way—she just could empathize with some of his life experiences, that’s all.

So the following evening, with everyone still happy and relaxed from the holidays, the DA met in the Room of Requirement to learn all about the Patronus Charm. With everyone gathered around, Harry took the center of their practice space, much more confident in the role than he’d originally been. “Right, so today we’re working on something much more difficult than most of what we’ve done before. The Patronus Charm. Some of you might be familiar with it, but just in case you’re not, it’s a spell which is used to fight against Dementors. Now, you can’t kill a Dementor, but you can scare them off using this spell. It comes in several forms, from a shield form—which is weaker but still _very_ useful—to a corporeal one, which takes the form of an animal significant to the caster.” Harry beckoned Eli forward, to her surprise, and asked her, “Will you demonstrate?”

She smirked at him as she stepped forward. “Anything in particular you want from this, or am I just showing a corporeal Patronus?”

He inclined his head. “Just—just the form for now.”

Eli bobbed her head once. She looked inside herself, going for her usual memory, searching for that happiness—but instead she found a different one floating to the surface. One far more recent. Christmas dinner, just a couple weeks ago, with George to her left and Remus on her right, the whole table filled with friends and family, laughing and talking and simply forgetting that the world was a mess, for a little while at least. Deciding at once just to go with the change, Eli raised her wand and—audibly, for the other students’ benefit—cast the spell. “ _Expecto patronum_!”

Immediately, her beautiful jaguar Patronus leapt forth, shimmering as it prowled the room. Several of the younger kids, who likely hadn’t seen anything like this, gasped in wonder—so Eli directed the jaguar to go up to them, bounding around one little blond boy playfully. Even the older kids laughed at that.

After a moment, Eli recalled her Patronus and tipped her head to the applause the others gave at the display.

“Now, it takes a lot of concentration to cast the full form,” Harry explained, settling them down. “Don’t get discouraged if you can’t do it right away. The first step is just to pick a memory, any particularly powerful memory that makes you feel very, very happy. I want you all to take a few minutes to think of one, and when you’ve got it, try to cast the charm. Like Eli said, the spell is _expecto patronum_.”

Everyone repeated it, as they usually did, before Harry dismissed them to work on their memories, and then the spell itself. Eli hovered nearby, a bit out of place, until he approached her again. “So, any other tips? I’ve only had to cast mine in the moment, I hardly ever have done it when there aren’t, y’know, Dementors around.”

She smirked at that one. “And I’ve never used it on Dementors. Funny, that.” She tapped her wand against her lip thoughtfully as she watched the others—a few were even trying to cast it already. “Don’t just focus on the memory,” she called, loud enough for everyone to hear. “It’s just as much about how the memory makes you _feel_. Dementors try to suck out your happiness—so you’ve got to feel happy enough to push back against them. A Patronus is literally a manifestation of happiness.” Turning to Harry and dropping her voice back to a normal volume, she explained, “When Remus first tried to teach me the charm, I had a hell of a time finding a good memory. So he got me to focus more on the feeling of it than the memory itself, and that was how I actually cast it the first time. The full memory came later.”

“He really was our best Defense teacher,” he commented offhandedly.

Eli felt a little burst of pride in her chest at that. She tucked it away in her head for later, knowing Remus would be floored anyone thought that of him, and then turned her attention back to the class. Harry left her then, moving about and checking on everyone, offering praise for those who had managed and encouragement for those who hadn’t. A handful of them, to her surprise, actually managed fully-fledged Patronuses that day, corporeal ones in a myriad of animal forms.

Some students, however, didn’t manage that first lesson, which wasn’t surprising. Neville in particular struggled, and Eli did her best to help him, but he really seemed to be having a rough time of it. She could empathize with that, though.

As the school year passed, Eli focused in hard on Potions, even showing Professor Snape a few of her own creations, and sharing her Brightening Elixir with Madame Pomfrey, who only agreed to keep some around once Professor Snape had vouched for her abilities. It was nice, getting some tangible credit for the work she’d done, and besides—getting the Hogwarts resident Healer in her pocket would make leaps and bounds towards her end goal of apprenticing there.

Eli found herself at a ridiculous level of work by early April, scarcely spending evenings outside the library because she was studying so hard for her NEWTs. The only thing that really drew her out, in fact, was either when Simon and the twins forced her, or when she had to run Quidditch practice. Under her leadership, she’d actually pulled the Slytherin team into a formidable force, partly through genuine teaching techniques and partly through fear. She’d let it slip once, quite purposefully, that she was still on good terms with Remus, surreptitiously planting the idea that they could find themselves at the jaws of a werewolf if they failed her. A ridiculous notion, completely unfounded, but it seemed to work all the same.

All the while, Umbridge became more and more of a thorn in everyone’s side. She had been slowly, but steadily, taking over Hogwarts, exerting her influence with her _educational decrees_ and even the creation of the _Inquisitorial Squad_ , a group of particularly rotten Slytherins led by Draco Malfoy, who helped her keep an eye on the other students. Eli took to hexing them when they weren’t looking, once even turning Malfoy’s whole body a vibrant shade of red, in exactly the same tone as Gryffindor’s red, by some strange coincidence… But it all only went so far.

“This is ridiculous,” Eli complained as she walked with the twins and Simon towards the Potions classroom one afternoon. “Keeping boys and girls apart—some of us are of age, it’s not like she can legally stop us from doing whatever we want.”

George smirked at her. “Or you just want me that badly.”

She swatted his shoulder, frustrated. Umbridge’s latest decree had ordained that students of opposite genders had to stay a certain distance apart, which she took great delight in enforcing, and it had really put a damper on Eli’s spirits. Not that she made a habit of snogging George in every bloody hallway, she was a bit more private than that, no, if that were the issue then she wouldn’t mind it so much. But Umbridge had caught her sitting just with her shoulder against his, not even doing anything romantic but actually checking his Herbology homework, and forcibly pushed them apart with a quick spell. Eli had nearly gone off on her, but Simon had intervened quickly enough and stopped her.

“Y’know, this is one time I’m glad I don’t like girls,” Simon laughed, giving her a smarmy grin. He’d gotten more comfortable with that side of himself, at least around his closest friends, which was nice to see—except when he was rubbing it in her face.

“Ugh, I never thought I’d feel discriminated against for being straight,” Eli griped, wrinkling her nose at him.

He just stuck out his tongue. “See how it feels? Welcome to my every bloody day.”

Hands firmly in his pockets, Fred cast a sideways look at the brunet boy walking only a few inches away, unreadable for the most part but definitely happy. “Is it really all that bad, Simes?” he asked, tone far too innocent for simple curiosity.

“Nah, not really,” Simon admitted with an easy shrug of his shoulders. “Honestly, it’s much worse in the muggle world. In this world I think we’ve all got far bigger problems to worry about than who anyone else wants to snog.” The two exchanged a subtle, shy look, and Eli had to press her lips together to keep from calling them out. She and George had agreed not to force them to admit anything, but to just reveal it on their own time.

Not that it was _easy_ with Simon and Fred giving each other these ridiculous sappy doe-eyes all the time, when they thought nobody was looking, but Eli was absolutely determined not to ruin it for them. Simon was comfortable with himself, more than ever—but she hadn’t a clue where Fred’s mind was. Best to just leave it be.

 Just before exams, Harry brought back the earlier lesson on Patronus Charms, and Eli gave a little more insight into her own memory, at least the feelings it evoked, to help anyone who was struggling. That lesson even the twins got theirs corporeal, with Fred’s taking the form of a hyena and George’s a coyote, which had a particular fondness for Eli’s jaguar. Neville managed a particularly strong shield form, after some serious effort, and the whole group congratulated him on the success. Right near the end, Fred’s hyena went and sat next to Simon’s legs, and with a face redder than the scarf around his neck, Simon cast his Patronus—which leapt out of his wand as a beautiful swan, startling him into nearly falling, though Fred caught him under the arms in time.

Eli grinned and nudged George as the two blushed and stepped away from each other purposefully. “Come on, they’ve got to tell us soon,” she muttered.

“Here’s hoping,” he agreed, draping an arm around her shoulders.

Then the floor rumbled underneath their feet. Most everyone’s Patronus vanished, save Eli’s jaguar and Ginny’s horse. “What the bloody hell is that?” Eli asked, glancing round to see if anyone had a clue. But everyone looked just as confused and worried as she did.

At the far end of the room, debris fell from the wall, revealing a brand-new hole all the way through into the room. Eli took a step back, surprised, while Harry went to investigate. Only moments later, though, he turned and raced away—mere seconds before the entire wall was destroyed, sending stones and dust flying all through the room.

“Run!” Eli shouted, catching the sleeve of Ginny’s robes and dragging the girl with her. Thankfully Simon and the twins followed, as Eli cut a path straight out and then left, dodging down hallways in an attempt to lose Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad, who had been dispatched to chase down any students that fled. But Eli knew all the students she’d recruited, knew them well enough to know they wouldn’t put _too_ much effort into it, so she was able to lead them all the way down to the library without incident.

“We left Harry back there!” Ginny snapped, rounding on her the moment Eli finally stopped fleeing. “We left _everyone_ to that awful toad!”

“There wasn’t any choice, all right?” Eli retorted in a much harsher tone than she meant to. “It’s no good if we all get caught at once. Umbridge will figure it out anyway, if someone ratted us out then we’re all in trouble, but I didn’t want to risk her panicking and cursing us. She’s terrible enough when she isn’t faced with a bloody piece of parchment that says Dumbledore’s _Army_ on it, or did you forget that?” She stalked away from the younger girl and raked a hand through her hair, which she’d left loose for once. “This is going to be a complete mess as it is.”

George crossed to her and caught her wrist, pulling her around to face him. “Look, I know you’re stressed, Eli, but there’s no reason to be angry with us. All right? We’re all tense.”

She nodded reluctantly, still irate but trying to calm down. He was right, after all, she was just panicked and taking her frustrations out on the first person to speak to her. But this was going to be rotten, she knew it, Umbridge would find their list of members and that’d be the end of it. As she sank down in the nearest chair, head in her hands, Eli wondered exactly how bad it would be.

\--

_‘All students must submit to questioning about suspected illicit activities.’_

Eli rubbed absently at her hand as she passed the decree, the damning one that had nearly broken her. It was only thanks to Professor Snape’s apparent investment in her future that she’d been spared any further punishment than Umbridge’s infamous ‘line-writing’ detention, using blood scratched from the back of your very hand. Her positions as both Prefect and Slytherin Quidditch Captain were still secure, but that was a very minor victory in comparison. The DA was gone, completely finished. Dumbledore had taken the fall for it, according to Harry, and left the school—leaving none other than Umbridge to take her stolen place as the new Headmistress. The twins then fought back, fast and hard, unleashing a flurry of pranks with the aid of Eli, Simon, and Peeves the school poltergeist. Remarkably, none of the teachers seemed able to assist, leaving Umbridge running ragged trying to clean up the messes while even more cropped up. Even Professor Snape claimed he simply couldn’t figure out how to stop the incessant raining of slugs in the Potions classroom, despite Umbridge’s protests that it ought to be a simple removal.

The very day before NEWT exams began, George came racing up to Eli, who had been studying in the library with the last of her mental energy, and blurted, “We need your help. Umbridge went after a first year, had him in detention, poor kid’s in a right awful state.”

Eli of course abandoned her last-minute attempts to study and hurried off with him, pulling her Healer’s bag from her schoolbag, where she’d stashed it just for moments like this. Ever since the DA had been given a slew of detentions for their activities, Eli had been in charge of healing everyone up, and miraculously Professor Snape had been generous with his distribution of ingredients, conveniently _‘forgetting’_ what he’d given her and thereby giving her excess of exactly what she needed. Rather brilliant, really.

George led her to a corridor near Umbridge’s office, where Fred and Simon sat with a little blond first-year boy, who was sniffling and quietly crying into one hand. The other, Simon had hold of and was gingerly dabbing with what Eli hoped was a cotton swab soaked in essence of murtlap.

“There you are,” Simon breathed out, relieved as the two hurried up. “Here now, Ralph, this is Eli. I know she’s a Slytherin but I promise, she’s here to help you. She’s an excellent Healer.”

Eli knelt in front of the boy, smiling softly at him. “Healer in training, actually, but I really can help. Is it all right if I look at your hand?”

He sniffed hard but nodded all the same, and offered her his injured hand, which was bleeding sluggishly and already swelling up. Eli clicked her tongue, dismayed to see he must have been forced to write easily a hundred lines, the poor thing. “Oh, this won’t do. That’s got to hurt something awful.” Giving him an encouraging look, she added, “You’re very brave, you know that?”

“No, I’m not,” the boy—Ralph—whimpered, shaking his head. “I cried the whole time.”

“But you didn’t give in to her, that’s what’s important,” Eli pointed out. “You’re in Gryffindor, right? I can certainly see why.” As she talked, trying to keep him distracted, she rummaged around in her kit for the healing salve she’d put together just for this, with components to numb pain and decrease scarring as well. Finally, she pulled the jar out, opened it, and gently began applying it to his hand with a clean cloth. First Ralph winced, but then his breathing evened out and his tears began to dry as the salve worked its magic.

Eli covered the wound in a generous layer, then wrapped his hand in sterilized gauze strips, binding them securely before replacing everything in her kit. She spooned out a little of the salve as well and put it in a separate, smaller jar for him, which she tucked into his robes. “There. You can apply a little of that every night until it heals up, all right?”

Ralph wiped at his eyes and offered her a smile, already looking better. “Thank you, Miss Eli,” he murmured, bashfully.

“It’s no trouble,” she assured him gently. “Now, if it happens again, you come find me or Madame Pomfrey straight away, all right? She can help you as well.” Eli got to her feet, and Ralph stood as well, hardly coming to her middle—but that didn’t stop him from hugging her tightly, beaming up at her, before he hurried off down the hall.

Once he was safely gone, Eli scowled fiercely at the ground. “She’s a wicked woman,” she growled, furious. “Torturing little kids like that. I’m so bloody sick of all this!”

“You and me both,” Fred agreed darkly.

Simon nudged Eli’s side. “You’ll be an excellent Healer, though. You were great with him, completely natural.”

“But I shouldn’t have to be doing things like this.” She sat down on the bench Ralph had vacated, feeling so weary all of a sudden. “We shouldn’t be facing torture and questioning by fucking veritaserum, of all things, especially not in school. This is ridiculous. I don’t believe for a moment the Ministry has sanctioned it all, but it’s not as if Fudge would believe any of us.”

George sat beside her and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “You’re right, love. But we’re doing all we can, aren’t we?” He exchanged a meaningful glance with his twin, one she was too tired to bother trying to decode. “We aren’t letting her just rule everything.”

Eli tugged at a loose thread on her robes, still unhappy. “I just hate feeling helpless, that’s all.”

“You aren’t,” Fred told her firmly. “You’re the least helpless of all of us. If it weren’t for you she’d have half the school running around in pain. Instead you’ve been taking care of everybody you can get your hands on, fighting her pretty directly, if you ask me. Give yourself a little credit, Eli, you’ve been completely brilliant recently.”

She felt her cheeks tinge pink at the praise. Maybe he was right, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she could be doing _more_.

George absolutely insisted Eli get some rest then, so he made her promise to take a sleeping draught once she made it back to her dormitory. Only because it was him did she acquiesce, going straight there and even sleeping in her own bed for once. The next day was going to be dreadfully stressful.

\--

Despite all her worries, Eli came out of her first exam very confident. NEWT students sat theirs early, before the OWL students, so she was able to loiter outside the Great Hall and offer encouragement to her fellow DA members before they went in, which was nice. Then she bailed before Umbridge caught her, because no doubt it would be frowned upon, and linked up with Simon in a courtyard nearby, as the twins were absent.

“They’re probably off plotting something with Peeves, no doubt,” Simon laughed, sitting against the base of a tree.

From her perch a few branches up, Eli just shrugged. “Who knows? They’ve been acting oddly the past few days anyway, so you know they’re up to something. I mean, they always are, but especially when they get like this.” Because it was just Simon, she felt confident in simply asking, “Now, tell me all about what’s gone on between you and Fred. And _don’t_ try to deny it, I’m not blind, you know.”

Simon turned a vibrant shade of red. “It’s—hardly anything,” he denied quickly. “He told me over Christmas that he still wasn’t entirely sure of himself, anyway, so…”

“But _something’s_ happened,” she insisted, with a wave of her hand. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be so giddy around him.”

He averted his gaze, glancing around them before he finally whispered, “He—well…he k-”

But Simon was interrupted by a firework suddenly whizzing into the courtyard, hovering in front of his nose for a moment, before it flipped away from him and exploded.

“What the hell?” Eli muttered, clambering down to the ground as Simon rose to his feet.

Another firework raced in, mimicking the first one’s actions except to Eli this time, exploding in a brilliant shower of green. She tipped her head to one side, smirking as distant explosions reached them. “I think we’ve just found out what the twins were up to. Come on!” Grabbing Simon by the wrist, Eli pulled him through the castle, dodging confused students, until they came upon a most incredible sight—Umbridge herself frantically running from the Great Hall, chased by an enormous firework dragon.

Soon enough, the twins themselves flew in on their broomsticks, tossing fireworks from magically expanded bags, leading everyone from the Hall and out into the school’s main courtyard. Eli and Simon followed, thoroughly amused by the whole thing, though Eli had a strange feeling inside her stomach, like she knew something was coming.

The twins circled high above the crowd, still flinging fireworks, including several that appeared to be charmed to follow members of the Inquisitorial Squad around and singe the arses of their trousers, which was a particularly spectacular move on their part. Having fled their exams for the moment, students all around were cheering them on, elated by the sudden revolt against all the rules and restrictions imposed on their school year.

Somewhere in this chaos, Eli saw Fred break away from George, who gave his twin a confused look, and swoop down into the crowd almost straight at her. Right there, in the middle of most of the school and the teachers, Fred landed, caught Simon in one arm, and kissed him hard, full on the lips.

Eli couldn’t even keep back her delighted shriek. To her surprise, everyone who saw it seemed excited for Simon too, clapping him on the back and congratulating him—or teasing him playfully—as Fred snatched Simon’s scarf and wrapped it around his own neck while he returned to the air. “I can’t believe he did that!” Eli laughed, rushing over and hugging Simon tightly. “I’m so happy for you!”

Simon looked almost faint, with this dazed, ridiculous look on his face. “I didn’t think he’d—I mean—we hadn’t said…l…” But he just gave up and grinned widely up at Fred, who blew him an exaggerated kiss.

Eli stared up at George, wondering, because he didn’t look quite as happy as his twin. Then as she watched, he threw a firework as a distraction and whispered, for her only to see, _‘I’m sorry.’_

It was like a punch right in the stomach. “They’re leaving,” she breathed, stunned.

“What?!” Simon clutched onto her arm tightly. “They can’t be!”

But it was true. Without so much as a goodbye, or an explanation, the twins left that very day. And Eli didn’t think she’d ever felt more betrayed.

\--

_Eli,_

_I am so, so bloody sorry. I know you’ll be upset so that’s why I left this, because we couldn’t risk telling you and Simon—not because we don’t trust you, but because we don’t trust_ Umbridge _, see. If you knew we were leaving, she could’ve seen that neither of you were surprised and interrogated you or worse once we left. Freddie and I didn’t want to do that to you and Simon. I’m not saying it’s the best way to handle things, I know it’s not, but we only wanted to protect you._

_So, I know you’re cross with me, but please, don’t hate me. We’ve put down money on a place in Diagon Alley, for our shop, and once school’s out I want you to come visit, or I’ll go where you decide to go, I don’t care which. I just want to talk. Simon too, but that’s only for Fred, really._

_Please, take care of yourself, stay safe, don’t have a go at Umbridge. You’ve only got exams and then you’re free of that hag._

_I love you._

_-George_

\--

When Harry had come to Eli asking for her help, she’d initially wanted to turn him down—but then he told her exactly why, told her all about the vision he’d had of you-know-who torturing Sirius, and all her defenses just crumbled. She could only think about what she’d do if it were the other way around, and you-know-who had Remus… God, she’d do _anything_ to save him. So she agreed immediately, offering her services as protection while Harry tried to reach someone at Grimmauld Place through the fireplace in Umbridge’s office, the only safe place to use the Floo Network.

The plan had been fairly simple. Neville and Ginny went to the opposite side of the castle to create a distraction, while Eli joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione in breaking into Umbridge’s office. Too simple, as it turned out. She’d only turned round for a moment, attempting to stop Harry from actually _traveling_ to London in favor of simply communicating through the fireplace…but that single moment was all it took.

“Just as I thought!”

Eli spun round immediately, wand out, only to be disarmed by Umbridge herself. Her beautiful redwood wand clattered to the ground, useless—though Eli herself wasn’t. No one in the room knew it but she still could use a touch of wandless magic, in the form of those wicked blasts of fire she’d struggled with. But in a tight spot…

“Did you really think you could just walk right into my office without me noticing?” Umbridge demanded, glaring between the four.

Eli raised her hands slowly, bringing the toad’s attention back onto her. “This was my idea,” she told her evenly, wanting to save the others from whatever awful punishment Umbridge would dream up. “I know you’ve been intercepting owls, and I wanted to contact my father.”

Umbridge eyed her skeptically. “Your father? The muggle? Why would I-”

But Eli cut her off, knowing exactly what she had to do. If she wanted to spare Harry, Ron, and Hermione Umbridge’s ire, then she needed to make the woman hate her, really, truly _hate_ her. “I’m sorry, the correction hasn’t been made to my papers, I only submitted my original birth records to the Ministry in March.” Eli smirked at her. “My real father is a werewolf, see, and it’s no secret how you look down upon lycanthropes.”

“You—but I-”

She was on a roll, though. “I’m sure you know him. Remus Lupin? He used to have your position, did a far better job of it than you, of course, but then again _anyone_ would be better than you. How does it feel, might I ask, to be inferior to a werew-” The spell hit Eli in her chest, sending her flying across the room and into the far wall. Her vision went black as she fell to the ground, ears ringing, sounds coming to her as if through water. But _god_ it had been worth it, to see the look of rage and disgust and _inadequacy_ on Umbridge’s face, not to mention the sudden flash of fear upon realizing that Eli’s own father was a lycanthrope. It was a bitter victory, though, because by the time Eli lifted her head and could see again, Draco Malfoy was triumphantly pointing his wand at her, while Umbridge stood over Harry where he now sat in a chair beside her desk, looking truly murderous.

The door swung open, and Professor Snape walked in, taking in the scene before him in moments. “You sent for me, Headmistress?” His gaze raked over Eli, eyes narrowing as he stared her down.

Umbridge nodded primly. “Snape, yes. Excellent. The time has come for answers, whether he wants to give them to me or not.” She glanced at Professor Snape sharply. “Have you brought the veritaserum?”

Another pointed, quick glance at Eli. “I’m afraid you’ve used up all my stores interrogating students… The last of which, on Miss Edgecombe.” The girl who had ratted them out to Umbridge! So it hadn’t been her decision, though Eli was furious the girl hadn’t used the antidote she’d been provided. Not beyond reproach, then. But of course…it wasn’t like Professor Snape to run out of _anything_ , he was far too meticulous to let that happen, even with increased demand. So Eli nodded, as subtly as she could, letting him know she’d caught his meaning. “In fact, Miss Chaplain has been assisting me, she herself prepared the next batch… It will be ready in a month, if that suits your purposes. Thusly unless you wish to poison him…” Eli was a bit disgusted to hear that he wouldn’t quite mind that, honestly. “…And I assure you, I would have the greatest sympathy if you did… I cannot help you.”

As Professor Snape turned to leave, Harry shifted in his seat and then yelped, “He’s—he’s got Padfoot!” He glanced anxiously at Umbridge before he added, “He’s got Padfoot at the place where it’s hidden.”

Eli held her breath. Umbridge had nothing to do with the Order, naturally, but there was the slightest chance she’d learned something of the Marauders just through researching the school…

But thankfully, the woman only looked confused and affronted. “Padfoot?” she demanded. “What is _Padfoot_? Where _what_ is hidden?” Umbridge scowled at Professor Snape as if he were the source of her confusion. “What is he talking about, Snape?”

Professor Snape gave Harry a calculating look. “No idea.” He shrugged it off, but Eli knew better. He’d understood clearly. The only problem was…he _hated_ Sirius, quite bitterly. There was no guarantee that he’d tell, he might rather wait it out, try and see what was happening for himself, but there simply wasn’t _time_. She tried to catch his gaze, tried to give him a significant look, but unfortunately Umbridge was already moving on.

“Very well.” She wiggled her fingers and pointed her wand at Harry, drawing herself up. “You give me no choice, Potter. As this is an issue of…Ministry security…you leave me with no alternative.” She pursed her lips and nodded once, firmly. “The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue.”

“That’s illegal!” Hermione gasped, staring at her in shock.

Eli sat up sharply. She had no delusions about how terrible Umbridge was, but there was absolutely no way she was going to let her torture Harry. No bloody way. As surreptitiously as she could, she lifted her hands, keeping them above her robes as they warmed and tingled, palms glowing a faint red in preparation to attack Umbridge. This was the first time she’d ever consciously intended to use that bit of wandless magic, to actually go after somebody like that… So maybe Remus was right, maybe her control really was getting better.

Umbridge moved closer to Harry, undeterred. “What Cornelius doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she muttered, turning her photo of the Minister down on her desk.

With the toad drawing closer, Eli steadied her breathing, preparing herself to attack… But Hermione shot her a look, making a quick hand motion at her. Whether she actually knew what Eli could do or not, she knew that Eli planned to do _something_ , and apparently didn’t think it was a good idea. Before the blonde could recover, though, the Gryffindor girl shrieked, “Tell her, Harry!”

Wand in the air, Umbridge turned sharply to look at her. “Tell me what?” she snipped.

Hermione glanced around the room anxiously, before staring at the ground, feigning that she was making some huge decision. “Well if you won’t tell her where it is…I will.”

Playing along, Eli cried out, “Don’t!” She tried to shift to her feet and Malfoy shoved her back, so Eli just rolled to her knees, shaking her head quickly. “Hermione, don’t! We don’t know what she’ll do!”

“We’ve got no choice!” Hermione argued back.

Umbridge pointed her wand between the two, her head flitting back and forth in a sort of anxious excitement. “Where _what_ is?” she demanded. “One of you, tell me now! Or it’s the Cruciatus Curse for you!”

Not that Eli actually knew what the bloody hell Hermione was talking about. She just trusted the Gryffindor to know what she was doing, in that moment.

“It’s—Dumbledore’s secret weapon,” Hermione blurted, hanging her head.

Eli gritted her teeth and looked away, as if she were disgusted she’d revealed it. But inside, she was positively glowing. What a brilliant stroke of ingenuity! Umbridge despised Dumbledore, and after the whole _‘Dumbledore’s Army’_ fiasco, she wouldn’t possibly miss the opportunity to prove even further that the Headmaster had been doing something behind Fudge’s back.

In moments, Umbridge had whisked Harry and Hermione out, leaving the Inquisitorial Squad to look after Eli, Ron, Neville, Luna, and Ginny, all of whom had been caught trying to assist Harry in contacting the Order. This was a battle Eli knew she could win, if she tried, and besides, Malfoy and his cronies would run at the first sign of fire, of her using wandless magic to attack them. Of course, that required her to actually attack them, and risk burning the office down, when the three were hardly a real threat.

“Oi, Malfoy,” Eli called, making the pasty blond look at her. “Give me my wand back and let’s see who’s a better duelist. Still think you can beat me? You were _so_ convinced a few years back.”

He snorted, giving her a derisive look. “Right. Good try, Chaplain, but I’m not as daft as you are.” Malfoy sauntered over and picked her wand up, tossing it lazily in the air, and Eli felt her palms heat up again. She was going to _destroy_ him if he hurt her wand. “Honestly, a mudblood like you doesn’t deserve a wand,” he added, smirking. “Probably ought to do something about that.”

Eli growled lowly. “You break my wand, I’ll break your bloody face, Malfoy. Not even daddy dearest will be able to shell out enough dark money or back-alley favors to fix you.”

“Don’t tempt me, Chaplain,” he snarled, taking her wand in both hands.

But Ron just rolled his eyes. “Oh, shove off, Malfoy. You’re pathetic.” He dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of paper-wrapped sweets, looking thoroughly at ease. “Anyway, I’m hungry. Anybody want one?”

She stared at him hesitantly, bewildered. He’d probably just saved her wand, so she was grateful, but at the same time…what the bloody hell was he _doing_?

“Give me those!” Malfoy snapped, and snatched the whole lot from Ron. He protested, a little weakly, but Malfoy was already distributing the sweets around between himself and the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad, all of whom took them and ate them immediately, if only to spite the others. Eli watched carefully, wondering, because Ron looked wholly pleased with himself…

And then it hit her.

Fainting Fancies! They were left over from the twins’ Skiving Snackboxes, the product they’d been testing throughout the school that year. Eli had helped with some of the potions, as far as giving a little advice and keeping them from poisoning themselves— _again_ —and knew they were all actually very successful. A fact which Malfoy and his bloody sheep were about to find out firsthand. She could hardly hide her grin.

Only moments later, every member of the Inquisitorial Squad fainted dead away, toppling to the floor and even snoring a bit. Eli leapt to her feet immediately, grabbed her wand, and gave Malfoy a harsh kick in the face just because she could. “Right,” she said, turning to the others. “Where did Hermione lead them?”

Ron glanced a bit nervously around, but then sighed and muttered, “Into the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid’s, um, his brother is there—he’s a giant, see, and…”

Eli nodded quickly. “Then that’s where we’ll go.”

“Won’t Snape alert the rest of the Order?” Neville asked, frowning.

“Not necessarily,” she sighed wearily. “He doesn’t much like Padfoot, to be honest, they’ve got this old rivalry from school… I’ll try to send word to Remus but he won’t get it quick enough. And now we’ve wasted enough time as it is, dealing with this whole mess…” Eli conjured one of her little avian messengers and sent it off, quickly, with a message for Remus—but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. “Right now we need to make sure Harry and Hermione dealt with Umbridge.”

The group left the castle together, wands all out, and headed across the long wooden bridge to the Forest. Halfway down, Harry and Hermione met up with them, jogging back triumphantly— _without_ Umbridge.

“How’d you get away?” Harry asked, surprised.

Ginny smirked at him. “Fainting Fancies. Knocked ‘em out cold.”

“I told ‘em I wanted some sweets, see, brought them out and everything.” Ron grinned widely, clearly pleased with himself. “’Course they told me to bugger off and ate the lot themselves.”

Hermione looked at him in astonishment. “That…was clever, Ron.”

He preened a bit. “It’s been known to happen.”

“It was brilliant,” Neville chimed in, grinning.

Eli stepped in then, trying to get things back on track. “So how are we getting to London? Not everyone has brooms.”

“I…” Harry shook his head. “Look, it’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done, all of you…but I’ve got you into enough trouble as it is.” He gave them a regretful look. “I can’t ask you to do this with me.”

Neville scowled at him, though. “Dumbledore’s Army was supposed to be about doing something real,” he countered firmly. “Or was that all just words to you?”

“Maybe you don’t have to do this all by yourself, mate,” Ron suggested, a bit gentler.

Eli patted Harry’s shoulder gamely. “You’re not getting rid of us. Besides, technically, you’ll be going with adult supervision, won’t you? So.” She surveyed the others before repeating her question. “How are we getting to London, hm?”

Luna smiled serenely. “We fly, of course.”


	18. In Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am back! I could ply you all with excuses - but the reality is I got into a funk, and it's been difficult just going about daily tasks, let alone writing/editing/piecing out sections from my big story document to post as a chapter. Regardless, I hope I'm back on track more now. Within the next day or so, I should also be posting a new story, which is exciting/nerve-wracking because I've put a LOT of heart into my new one. (Any fans of Fullmetal Alchemist? Yes? No?) Anyway... I hope you enjoy this installment! I should be posting the next one pretty soon too, probably not a double-update but as close as I can manage. Thank you so so much to anyone who's still interested, and the lovelies who left reviews/kudos while I was dealing with myself. I love you all!

Thestrals. Eli had learnt about these from Remus, in class, but it was still astonishing to touch what looked like thin air and actually feel something _solid_. But that didn’t even compare to the disconcerting feeling of sitting on a Thestral, flying up into the air… _on something she couldn’t bloody see_.

Eli was grateful when they reached the Ministry finally, and headed into the elevator, down to the Department of Mysteries. She’d cautioned everyone to keep their wands out, to stay prepared, and thankfully they’d all listened. Briefly, she considered how stupid it was, heading into what could very well be a fight with _Lord Voldemort_ himself. But she put it out of her head as soon as she could, because there was nothing for it now. They’d just have to handle whatever they could.

The group slowly made their way through the Department of Mysteries, first into a room full of identical doors, then into a big, open arena-style room with an archway at the center, which led nowhere. So they doubled back and crossed through a hall filled with jars of indeterminate content, finally coming out in an enormous, seemingly endless room. It was lined with shelves, all filled almost to the brim with these beautiful, glowing orbs, each marked with names, dates, all sorts of information. Eli had never seen anything like them before, and she wanted to examine them closer but Harry was rushing forward, so she followed him instead.

Harry counted the shelf numbers as he went, muttering it under his breath. “Ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five…” He stopped abruptly, spinning around helplessly. “He should be here!”

Eli felt a sick knot form in the pit of her stomach. If Sirius wasn’t there… “We’ve got to get out of here,” she told the others, frowning. “We can go to headquarters, talk to the others and try to figure out another plan-”

“Harry?” Neville called, ignoring her. “This one’s got your name on it.”

“No, I—don’t _touch_ anything,” Eli tried, frantically, but it was too late. Harry took the orb off the shelf, staring into it like he could see or hear something the others couldn’t, eyes reflecting light that just wasn’t there… This was bad, worse than bad, and she had absolutely no idea how to fix it. “We need to go, all right?” she told them firmly.

Suddenly, Hermione shrieked Harry’s name. Eli spun, her whole body going cold as she saw a Death Eater approaching them. His mask wasn’t even on, like he didn’t care if they knew his identity, like he _knew_ the Ministry was eating out of his hand… And that wasn’t all that far-fetched since it was bloody fucking _Lucius Malfoy_ approaching them with a smirk on his face, his wand out, dressed in full Death Eater regalia like he owned the damn place.

Harry faced him, unsurprised to see who it was, and held his wand out in front of him. “Where’s Sirius?” he demanded.

Malfoy clicked his tongue. “You know, you really should learn to tell the difference between dreams…and reality.” He laughed softly, amused by the whole situation. “You saw only what the Dark Lord _wanted_ you to see. Now.” Extending a hand, he gave Harry a firm look. “Hand me the prophecy.”

Prophecy? Eli stared at the orb, now understanding. That’s why it had Harry’s name on it—somehow, this prophecy included him, and was related to Voldemort too… Was this why they’d been lured there? To get the prophecy? She only vaguely knew anything about divination and prophecies, about what it entailed… But she knew enough to be certain Harry should _not_ hand it over.

Thankfully, he seemed in the same mindset. “If you attack us, I’ll break it,” Harry threatened.

From down another aisle, a high-pitched, maniacal cackle echoed, and another Death Eater approached them, grinning crookedly, lips painted bright red, wild, dirty curls tumbling down her shoulders. “He knows how to play,” she giggled. “Itty…bitty…baby… _Potter_.”

Neville trained his wand on her, sucking in a deep breath. “Bellatrix Lestrange,” he breathed.

She grinned toothily at him. “Neville Longbottom, isn’t it? Tell me, how’s mum and dad? Getting on all right?”

“Better, now that they’re about to be avenged!” he shouted.

Eli recalled the discussion she’d overheard—how Neville’s parents had been tortured into insanity by this witch. Edging a bit closer to him, she moved her wand to point at Bellatrix as well, staring down her eyes of absolute lunacy.

Malfoy stepped forward, hands out placatingly. “Now, let’s everybody just…calm down, shall we?” He smiled thinly at Harry. “All we want is that prophecy.”

“Why did Voldemort need me to come and get this?” Harry asked sharply, not moving his wand.

Bellatrix’s face contorted with rage. “You dare speak his name?!” she thundered, raising her wand at him. “You filthy half-blood!”

But Malfoy raised a hand to her, shaking his head. “It’s all right,” he drawled. “He’s just a curious lad, aren’t you?” Inclining his head, he explained, “Prophecies can only be retrieved by those about whom they are made. Which is lucky for you, really.  Otherwise you’d be dead right now.” Taking a step forward, and then another, Malfoy continued to speak. “Haven’t you ever wondered…what was the reason for the connection between you and the Dark Lord? Why he was…unable to kill you when you were merely an infant?” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you want to know the secret of your scar?” He made a wide, sweeping gesture at Harry. “All the answers are there, Potter, in your hand. All you have to do…is give it to me. Then I can show you everything.”

Harry eyed him, glancing between him and Bellatrix, and the group at his back. “I’ve waited fourteen years,” he mused, giving Eli and the others a pointed look. She understood—they were going to fight.

“I know,” Malfoy assured him, seeming to think he had it in the bag.

“I guess I can stand to wait a little bit longer,” Harry told him sharply. “Now!”

All at once, the members of the DA launched into the attack, mostly using _stupefy_ to stun the two before they turned and ran. Eli banked left, just behind Ginny, while they all separated into small groups, trying to lose the Death Eaters. At some point, Eli turned to look behind her, and when she looked forward again, Ginny was gone.

Cursing viciously, Eli headed to the right, towards where she could hear noises, only to come face to face with a masked Death Eater. She didn’t hesitate. With a flick of her wand, she yelled, “ _Impedimenta_!”

The Death Eater was sent flying backwards down the aisle, and Eli hurried to run in the other direction, hoping desperately she’d reach the others. She protected the aisles behind her as she went, trying to keep any Death Eaters from sneaking up on her. Finally, desperate to search out everyone else, Eli cast her Patronus and let it guide her, chasing the jaguar down what felt like endless twists and turns, until she rounded a corner after it and crashed right into the others, nearly sending everyone to the ground. “There you are!” she gasped. “Is everyone all right?”

“Much as we can be,” Ron told her, breathing hard.

Ginny spun away, pointing her wand down the aisle behind them as a Death Eater came rushing up it, after them. “ _Reducto_!” she shouted, casting what was one of her more powerful charms.

An explosion knocked the Death Eater backwards, sending him sprawling…but also upended the nearby shelves, which quickly became a chain reaction of shelves falling into other shelves, cascading like dominoes _right towards them_.

“Get back to the door!” Harry cried.

Eli didn’t need to be told a second time. She took up the very back as they sprinted out, following Harry—who hopefully had some idea of where to go—and casting what spells she could behind her to try and slow the shelves’ progress.

Finally, narrowly avoiding being crushed, they burst back through the door and into the hall they’d come from. Choosing a door at random, Harry led them all through…and into the room with the archway from before. Eli kept her back to the others, wand facing the door, ready for whoever might come after them. “Be careful, all of you,” she warned, stepping backwards to keep with the group.

Behind her, she could hear Hermione, Harry, and Luna discussing the archway—whether there were voices or not, whether they could see anything…but it didn’t matter. Before they could figure anything out, a chill slipped into the room.

“Death Eaters,” Eli hissed, narrowing her eyes.

Harry looked up towards the door. “Get behind me,” he ordered, brandishing his wand and taking up a defensive stance. Despite her misgivings, Eli stepped up onto the dais with the others, loathe to just leave them by themselves. This had all been a terrible idea, a colossal failure, and honestly, she wasn’t even sure her little messenger charm could get all the way to London, in the end. Remus and the others mightn’t even know they were in danger.

Suddenly, the room was filled with black smoke, circling around them and drowning them in darkness. Eli felt someone grab her shoulders and yank her away, and when her vision cleared, she found herself held tight by a Death Eater, his wand pressed into her throat, standing on the upper level of the room while Harry was left alone on the dais.

Malfoy approached him at a slow, easy saunter, back in control again. “Did you actually believe…or were you truly naïve enough to think…that mere c _hildren_ could stand against us?” He tutted, disappointed. “I’ll make this simple for you, Potter. Give me the prophecy now, or watch your friends die.”

Eli’s jaw tensed up. She glanced sideways at the Death Eater who had her, trying to make out his face—Dolohov, if she recalled correctly, from the little bit she’d learned from the Order. If she used wandless magic, she could free herself, but what about the others? What if her escape wasn’t enough of a distraction? She just couldn’t risk it, couldn’t leave their lives up to chance, no matter how badly she wanted to fight back.

“Don’t give it to him, Harry!” Neville yelled, from where Bellatrix had dragged him.

She bared her teeth at him, yanked his head back and pressed her wand against his neck, but he hardly flinched.

Slowly, Harry looked away from Neville, shame and angry warring on his face, before he finally began to pass the prophecy to Malfoy. Eli watched with horror, knowing with an awful certainty that if the Death Eaters got their hands on that prophecy, things would get a whole hell of a lot worse. But what else could he do? Everyone was in the hands of a Death Eater, all of whom would kill given half a chance… She couldn’t blame him, though she hated feeling this powerless, feeling like there was nothing in the world she could do.

Then, out of nowhere, she felt someone physically drag Dolohov away from her, watched him turn in rage to fight back against…

_Oh my god!_ It was Remus, who was now physically _grappling_ with the Death Eater. Fighting him like a bloody muggle! There was absolutely no way he was going to win his fight, though, Eli could tell that in less than a second, and she knew if she didn’t do _something_ he was going to…to…

Her mind went utterly blank as Dolohov shoved Remus backwards, raised his wand… And then, all the breath left her lungs as glowing green energy pooled at its tip.

_No!_

“Dad!” The word simply slipped out as she cast the first instinctive, nonverbal spell she could summon up, sending Dolohov tumbling down the rocks. The Death Eater hit the ground below and didn’t get back up.

Eli saw Remus’s eyes go wide, and for a moment she didn’t understand—until she realized exactly what she’d called him, and blushed absolutely crimson. “I—sorry,” she blurted.

Remus was opening his mouth to reply, but instead he grabbed Eli and pulled her to the ground, narrowly keeping her out of the path of a spell shot by one of the Death Eaters. “You need to get out of here, Eli,” he told her firmly, keeping his arm across her back.

“Like hell!” she denied fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere without you!”

“Eli-”

She lunged forward and caught him in a tight, desperate embrace. “I’m staying,” she insisted as she pulled back, gripping her wand firmly. “Okay? We’ve got to help the others.”

Thankfully he just nodded then, beckoning for her to follow him as he made his way down, towards where a handful of other Order members had shown up. Eli stunned the nearest Death Eater, stopping him from sending some hex or another at Nymphadora Tonks, a member of the Order she’d gotten to know a bit. Tonks grinned up at her and Remus before jumping back into the fray.

Eli stuck close to Remus, still reeling a bit from Dolohov’s attempted Killing Curse and how close she’d actually come to _losing_ him. She couldn’t have handled that.

The members of the Order fanned out through the room, fighting Death Eaters while they also tried to cover the DA kids who apparently had refused to leave just like Eli. For her part, she covered Remus and dueled in tandem with him, trying to collect other DA members and keep them safe in the process. Up on the dais, Sirius was fighting alongside Harry, the two of them working together excellently, so she didn’t really worry about them.

Malfoy went for them, and Eli raised her want to disarm him—but Sirius beat her to it, simply punching him in the face. The prophecy fell from Malfoy’s hand and shattered on the stone floor, for which she was glad, considering how badly the Death Eaters had wanted it. She then knocked him off the dais with a quick Impediment Jinx, giving a nod to Harry as she did so.

“Eli, down!” Remus yelled, and she ducked without questioning it, narrowly avoiding a bright green curse from the Death Eater she thought was called Avery. Before Eli could even raise her wand to retaliate, Remus had stepped in front of her with his wand out, staring the Death Eater down venomously. “Don’t you dare touch my daughter!” he snarled, and fired a curse at Avery that knocked him across the entire chamber.

 A bit shakily, Eli took Remus’s proffered hand and got to her feet. “I-I think we’re even now,” she mumbled uncertainly.

He just squeezed her shoulder and smiled, so she assumed everything was all right, and followed him back into the battle. Eli had just got it in her head to maybe go help Sirius and Harry, who were in full view of anyone who wanted to have a go at them, when she heard Sirius call out, “Nice one, James!”

James? Harry’s _father_. What a slip, god, Eli could hardly believe it. Padfoot would have a hell of a time explaining that one away.

Then Bellatrix Lestrange’s voice rang out in the room. “ _Avada kedavra_!”

Eli turned in horror as the spell impacted Sirius square in his chest, his whole body freezing up for a moment, before he slowly fell backwards into the empty archway…and vanished.

Harry’s first instinct seemed to be to try and attack Bellatrix, but seconds later, he turned and stared at the archway, his decision clear. And somehow, she knew he could _not_ go into that archway. Beside her, Remus seemed to have the same idea, shooting her a panicked look before she nodded and told him, “Go, I’ll cover you both!”

She scrambled up onto the dais just behind Remus as he lunged for Harry, narrowly catching him around the middle before he reached the archway. “No!” he shouted, dragging Harry backwards and to his knees. “He’s gone, Harry, he’s gone, you can’t…”

Eli flung up a shield with _protego maxima_ and turned to help, but Harry had already fought himself free and was now chasing after Bellatrix, where she’d run from the room. Remus stood and made as if to go after him, but Eli caught his sleeve and shook her head wearily. “No, dad, we can’t leave everyone here,” she told him sadly, feeling the tightness of an oncoming sob in her chest. But there just wasn’t space for tears yet.

With Bellatrix having fled the room, and the Death Eaters outnumbered, the Order and the DA were able to subdue them and incapacitate them all, in order to turn them over to the Ministry. Once that was completed, and Aurors began showing up, Eli abandoned the other students in favor of going over to Remus, worrying after him. “Are you all right?” she asked him softly, touching his arm hesitantly.

Remus sighed and first nodded, but then he passed a hand over his face and shook his head. “No. I—I’m not. But there’s more important things right now.”

She leaned into his side wearily, wanting so badly for it to be different. “This was such a mistake,” she whispered. “Harry thought—he thought you-know-who had…had Padfoot here… He had a vision of him being tortured… And I knew it wasn’t a good idea but I didn’t do anything to stop it, I just kept thinking what I’d do if…if it were you instead and I…” Eli broke off, biting her lower lip to shut herself up. There she went again, rambling her soul out like a damned Hufflepuff.

But rather than being bothered, Remus just gave her a sad little smile before wrapping his arms around her tightly. “You did what you thought was right,” he murmured. “That’s all any of us could do.”

“I’m so sorry.” Eli ducked her face into his shoulder and closed her eyes, feeling rather like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, the weight of Sirius’s death on her shoulders. That was her father’s oldest living friend, somebody he’d only fairly recently gotten back in his life, and…and he was _gone_.

The Aurors took over handling the Death Eaters, so the Order guided the students back out of the Department of Mysteries, mostly silent beyond a few hushed worries of injuries, remnants of hexes or curses, and just the leftover fear… But Eli kept to herself the whole time, watching Remus worriedly, refusing to let him out of her sight for even a moment. If he was anything like her—or she was anything like him, contrarily—he would have a tendency to bury all his pain, hide it away to deal with by himself later, rather than accepting help… And she just wasn’t going to let him do that, no matter how hard he tried. Neither of them had to cope alone anymore.

They found Harry in the atrium, half-conscious and held up by Dumbledore, who had apparently shown up to assist. Fudge himself was there, standing in his pyjamas and looking horrorstruck, among a handful of other Aurors who were searching the area, fanning out and doing their jobs.

“What’s happened?” Eli asked anyone who might answer her, looking between members of the Order.

It was Mr. Shacklebolt who answered her. “I believe it’s just been proven that Voldemort is back.”

Eli took an involuntary step towards Remus, fear chilling her down to her bones. So Voldemort had shown up after all. God, had Harry dueled him again? And Dumbledore had scared him off? Now there would be no question about him being back, about his return—no more of the Daily Prophet spewing filth about Harry and Dumbledore being despicable liars. Eli just wished it could’ve come about without someone _dying_.

She jumped, surprised when Remus slipped an arm around her shoulders, but she latched her fingers onto his coat when he tried to pull back. “Don’t,” she murmured, tilting her head to rest on him. “Please, don’t leave me right now.”

“I won’t go anywhere,” he promised her softly.

\--

Somehow, Eli made it through her final exams and finished the school year out. She had to take her Herbology exam a day later, on top of her Transfiguration exam, but it was worth it to attend the small, private funeral held for Sirius. In his honor, at least to her, she brought the cauldron and equipment he’d gifted her and used it in her practical Potions exam, nailing every single recipe put forth and brewing her Brightening Elixir as extra credit.

Though she’d wanted to blame herself for Sirius’s death, in the end she lay that on Professor Snape’s head—her messenger bird had arrived only moments after he’d bothered to inform the Order. If they’d gotten there earlier, if they’d known the danger everyone was in, then he might’ve been saved. It was only a _might_ , but no matter what the delay had caused all sorts of problems.

With most members of the DA suffering injuries in the battle, Eli offered her services to Madame Pomfrey as an assistant, just for that purpose—which thankfully the Healer accepted. It opened the door for Eli to approach her at the end of the year and ask about a possible apprenticeship the next year, especially since she had lost most of her trust in Snape after his arguably ruinous actions that June. There was no way in hell she was going to let _him_ be the only person Harry could come to with his concerns, the only person from the Order he could reach quickly.

Though before the battle in the Department of Mysteries Eli had been cross with George, when he showed up at Sirius’s funeral she just fell into his arms, everything seeming so much smaller after what had happened. It was nice to see Fred and Simon being fairly open as well, though she didn’t make any comments about it, wanting to give them their time.

That year’s graduation ceremony, Eli had only expected to see the twins, perhaps, if they could spare the time from their new business—but that day, they showed up accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and to her eternal surprise, Remus as well. He kept to himself for the most part, staying largely out of sight of anyone else behind the Weasleys, but the fact that he’d actually _come_ meant the absolute world to her. Afterwards she hurried over to them, laughing and turning bright red when Mrs. Weasley hugged her. “We’re so proud of you, Eli,” she told her warmly, beaming at her. Then she reached out and grabbed Simon too, making his eyes completely bug out. “And you too, Simon dear. This is just wonderful! Do you both know what you’re doing next year?”

Eli exchanged a grin with Simon. “I…actually have my plans all set up for next year, to be honest.”

He inclined his head, turning a bit red himself. “Well, I’m looking into magical illustration, actually. Designing things, doing illustrations for books, that sort of stuff. I’ve been drawing most of my life.”

Fred beamed at him proudly. “And he’s already got his first customers, don’t you?” He threw an am over the shorter boy’s shoulders and announced, “Simes is doing the art for all our products, packaging and whatnot. We’ve already hired him on.”

Remus gave Eli a curious look, as she hadn’t told him the specifics of what she was actually planning on doing. “I know you want to be a Healer, but I didn’t know you had anything set up. What are you doing?”

“Madame Pomfrey agreed to take me on as her apprentice next year,” Eli revealed a bit slyly. “I helped her out in the infirmary last week and got her to accept just the other day. So I’ll be coming back here in September. It means I get most weekends off and holidays too, which is nice, and I can stay and keep an eye on things for the Order as well.”

His face fell. “But—Eli…”

But she crossed her arms, giving him a firm look. “I’m of age _and_ I’ve graduated now. There’s no reason I can’t join, other than you being all overprotective. Right? I can look out for Harry and still learn my trade. And Madame Pomfrey might not be in the Order but she’s one of our allies, so if something big comes up it’ll be easy for me to help out.”

Remus made a face, glancing sideways at Mrs. Weasley for support, though she was staying pointedly tight-lipped about it. “It’s just…very dangerous, that’s all, and I-”

“Dad, stop,” she interrupted, laughing. She hugged him and kissed his cheek when he frowned, more amused than anything else. Ever since the Department of Mysteries he’d gotten _so_ overprotective, but never in a bad way—it only served to make her feel loved and looked after, so she didn’t mind. “You won’t stop me. Just go back to congratulating me or something, hm?’

That made his expression break into a wide grin, and he nodded wryly. “All right, have it your way. And I _am_ proud of you, besides.”

“I think it’s a good place for her, Remus,” Mr. Weasley added brightly. “Hogwarts is exceptionally safe, thanks to Dumbledore. You won’t have to worry about her all the time. Believe me, that’s a luxury.”

Remus nodded, a bit awkwardly in Eli’s opinion, but the whole _being a father_ thing was still quite new to him so he didn’t always handle it well. She wouldn’t wish for anything else, though.

Afterwards, Eli, Simon, and the twins all headed into Hogsmeade together for a celebratory lunch, after promising the others they’d Apparate to the Burrow when they were through. It was a startling difference from the darkness of everything that had happened, to just spend an afternoon on what ostensibly became a double date, really, enjoying themselves and forgetting all their troubles for a bit.

“We’re all going separate ways now, aren’t we?” Simon mused, sipping at his butterbeer absently.

Eli nodded as she realized how…depressing that was, really. “Thanks for livening the mood up, Simon,” she grumbled, turning her nose up at him. “I suppose we are, but it’s—rather sad, isn’t it? After spending seven years basically living in the same building.”

The twins exchanged meaningful looks, and Eli raised an eyebrow at them. “What? What are you two on about?” she asked.

“Well, Georgie and I were thinking…” Fred began.

Simon smirked at him. “Well, that’s dangerous.”

Ignoring him, George ploughed on. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to all split up after this.”

“It doesn’t?” Eli asked curiously. “Then what _does_ make sense?”

The twins grinned at each other. “For you to move in with us,” they chirped in unison.

Simon nearly spat out the drink he’d just taken, his face turning bright red in shock. “Move in with you? Where, into the store?” he blurted, eyes wide.

Fred shrugged, clearly unbothered. “We have the flat above the store, that came with it. And we magically extended most of it already, so there’s plenty of room for all four of us. Eli would be up at the school half the year anyway.”

“Besides, there’s no reason for you both to have to find places of your own now when we’ve got a perfectly good one,” George added. “And the Order is going around protecting everyone’s homes, so it’s two less places they’d have to worry about. Safety in numbers too, and all that.” He nudged Eli’s shoulder. “C’mon, love. I know you’ll be at the castle most of the time, but wouldn’t it be nice to stay with us during the summer? We can do holidays all together at mum and dad’s too.”

Simon quirked one corner of his mouth up. “Well…I’m in. I had no idea where I was going after this anyway, honestly. Rosalyn offered to let me stay in her flat, but, well…she’s got her boyfriend staying there and I really don’t want to be around them snogging all the time.”

“I’m in too,” Eli told them quickly, before she could back down. She didn’t have many other options anyway—beyond asking Mrs. Weasley for a room, and that seemed silly when George and Fred were offering their flat. Remus wouldn’t even let her know where the bloody hell he lived, since he said he was _embarrassed_ by it, but she didn’t want to impose on him regardless. Going with Simon and the twins felt right, it felt like a wonderful place to call home, among friends and arguably family at this point, close to the people she cared about.

“Excellent!” George kissed the side of her head just as Fred kissed Simon’s forehead, and they all burst into peals of laughter at the ridiculousness of the moment.

Eli reached out and caught George’s hand under the table, giving him a sideways look. He squeezed her hand in return, understanding—they could communicate plenty without ever speaking a word. That kind of comfort and connection wasn’t something she’d ever take for granted.

With lunch over, they Apparated back to the Burrow to join the others, and Eli was pleasantly surprised to find Remus had stayed—though she had a sneaking suspicion that had something to do with Tonks’s presence. She was just waiting for the right moment to nudge her father in the metamorphmagus’s direction, considering the two had been doing this ridiculous dance around each other ever since Christmas, but she didn’t want to push them _too_ hard.

“You know,” she began lightly, sidling up to him after dinner, “Hogwarts will be looking for a new Defense teacher.”

Remus laughed at that, giving her a dry look. “Oh, yes, and you think I should be first in line? I can’t teach there, Eli, you know that. There would be mass outrage that someone like _me_ was allowed around children again.”

She crossed her arms and scuffed the toe of her boot on the floor. “Maybe one of these days I’ll march right into the Ministry and rip up anything they have in place against lycanthropes. Honestly.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” he chided gently. “I’ll be all right, I’ve always gotten by.”

Getting to her real point, Eli nudged her shoulder into his arm and told him, “Well, I’m moving in with Simon and the twins in the flat above their shop in Diagon Alley—and we’ve all agreed you can take the spare room there anytime, if you need it.” She glanced away, staring off out the window at the fields beyond. “So you’ll always have a place to go.”

Remus smiled softly and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

She toyed with her foot again, a little uncertain about what she was going to say next—but it had to come out at some point, and they’d never spoken about it. “I wanted to know as well… That is, I mean… I wanted to ask…if you’re all right with… Well… I never meant to start, it just happened, and…” Eli groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “Ugh. I’m completely rubbish with this sort of thing. I just want to know if it’s all right what I’ve started calling you, because when it happened first it wasn’t a _conscious_ decision, see, and it’s stuck, but I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’ve nothing to worry about,” he told her kindly. “Really, I thought you’d never want to, considering how late in life we—connected. But it’s absolutely not a problem.”

Eli grinned up at him, finding her confidence once more. “Well then, _dad_ , you’d better write to me while I’m off at my apprenticeship. And I’ll expect you here for the holiday too.” A thought struck her, and she snapped her fingers as she remembered. “Oh! I completely forgot to tell you, what with everything else that’s been going on. I’ve asked Professor Dumbledore for a favor, and he agreed already, so it’s finalized and you can’t say anything against it.”

He looked at her warily. “Am I going to want to?”

“Knowing you,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You can’t hardly accept anyone wanting to help you. Anyway, I’ve asked him if I can have access to the school’s ingredient suppliers since I’ll technically be employed by the school. You know, the ones Professor Snape buys from in bulk so everything is dirt cheap. He gave me all the information I needed, because one of my duties will be helping Madame Pomfrey keep her potions stocked, but I _know_ he suspected what else I wanted…” She caught herself rambling and paused, clearing her throat before beaming at her father excitedly, though he still looked utterly bewildered. “You haven’t figured it out yet? I have access to the cheapest aconite and moonstone on the potions market.”

And _there_ it was. Remus’s jaw dropped as he stared at her in total awe, spluttering a bit as he tried to find his words. “That’s—you—but Eli, it’s still _massively_ expensive, you can’t…”

“I can and I am,” she argued back. “Everything I get for my apprenticeship will be covered by the school, so it’s the only thing I need to get on my own. I’ll be making decent money from it all too, because Professor Dumbledore actually cares about his staff, and the twins own their flat and aren’t making me and Simon pay any rent. All I have to worry about are amenities and food during the summer, the school provides food and lodging the rest of the time.”

Remus dropped his head into his hands, visibly stunned. But Eli had expected that sort of reaction, so she just waited, grinning hugely, until he finally looked back up at her and murmured, “I don’t deserve that. You should be worrying about yourself and your friends, not…not me.”

“But you’re my father,” she countered easily. She’d already gone over every argument she could imagine in her head, plotting out every way he would try and talk her out of it, and prepared herself so she could simply push his arguments into the ground. “It matters to me, you and your wellbeing matter to me. Besides, I figure I was given all this bloody Potions talent for a reason. Why not use it?”

He groaned wearily, obviously distressed, but he leaned in and embraced her anyway. “You are so much like Eva, you really are.” With a tentatively hopeful expression growing on his face, he hedged, “Are you…certain, Eli? It’s an enormous undertaking, brewing that potion every month…”

“It’s worth it to me,” she insisted firmly. “And you’re not going to talk me out of it. Besides, you can’t stop me at this stage since I’ve already put in my first order. Now.” Eli linked arms with him and led him away from the wall. “I helped Mrs. Weasley bake pies for dessert just this afternoon, so I can personally swear to their deliciousness. It’d be a shame if you missed out.”

Remus smiled and let her guide him, looking like he felt much lighter. “Yes, I imagine it would.”

Eli couldn’t stop the broad grin taking over her face. Looking around the room, at George giving her an encouraging look, Simon and Fred tossing what looked like peas at each other, assorted members of the Weasley family and the Order, as well as Harry and Hermione, all sitting round the table and chatting happily, she couldn’t recall a time when she’d felt so at home. Yes, this was exactly where she wanted to be.


	19. Wrong Place, Right Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...double-update! Kinda. Anyway, please enjoy!!! I'll do my utmost to go back to weekly updates after this, I swear. I've missed sharing with you guys, honestly. I love you all!!!

Her hands were trembling, horribly by now. It’d only been getting worse over the past ten minutes, during which time she’d been standing outside the house, merely staring at the door as though it might eat her. This decision wasn’t one she’d made lightly, Eli had spent plenty of sleepless nights worrying and going back and forth, but in the end she knew it was the only way to do this. There was no other way out.

So, forcibly stilling the glow in her fingertips, Eli knocked on the door.

After a moment, the door swung open, and the familiar-yet-unfamiliar frame of Marcus Chaplain filled the doorway. “Oh, I… Eli…” He gave her a strange look, sort of tight and uncomfortable, and she knew. The spell was falling apart.

“May I come in?” she asked softly. “This…won’t take long, I promise.”

He nodded, tensely, and beckoned her inside. Eli followed him to the sitting room, where her mother—where Caroline Chaplain sat on the sofa, looking utterly baffled to see her walking in the room. But she didn’t speak. She didn’t dare, not when Eli could see everything she needed to know on her face.

“So…” Eli moved to stand in front of the hearth and folded her hands, while her—while Mr. Chaplain took a seat beside his wife. “I assume by now…things aren’t quite…adding up, are they? Memories don’t seem to be in the right place, you can’t recall—perhaps how I…” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat to continue. “Perhaps how I ended up in your lives at all. And that isn’t your fault, none of it. I’m here to…clarify things, once and for all.”

“Clarify,” Mr. Chaplain repeated flatly. “And what do you mean by that, exactly?”

Eli steeled herself. “I’m not your daughter. But you knew that, didn’t you? You’ve probably always sensed it, but pushed it aside, because, well… You had a small child in front of you calling you _mummy_ and _daddy_ , who wouldn’t?”

Mrs. Chaplain shook her head, suddenly turning very watery and hurt. “N-no, you’re our… But you _must_ be, we’ve raised you since…”

“Since I was a baby,” Eli confirmed, soft as she could. “Because I was…placed with you.” She turned away and stared pointedly out the front window, unable to face the photos on the mantel or else she’d lose her nerve. “By a witch, shortly after I was born. By—my real mother.” A lance of pain made her fingers flare with energy, and both the Chaplains recoiled, only underscoring why, exactly, she was doing this. “She placed a spell upon you both, to make you think I was your child. Only…it was never meant to stick, not for this long. That’s why your memories are getting strange.”

“You’re suggesting we’ve been-” Mr. Chaplain’s face nearly contorted. “- _bewitched_?”

Eli couldn’t miss the disgust in his tone. The barely-hidden revulsion he’d always tried and failed to contain around her, throughout her entire life. Now it was there in the open. “Yes. It was to save my life—there was a war going on, and she…she only wanted to protect me and give me a home until she could come back and get me. Except…that never happened.”

Mrs. Chaplain rose and crossed to her, looking as though she might reach out—but she stopped and wrapped her arms round herself instead. “But…that would mean…”

“She was murdered during the war.”

“Why are you telling us this? What does it matter when you’ve clearly got a whole new life now?” Mr. Chaplain demanded. “A new home, new job, whatever else you might’ve got since the last time you were here. Just—leave us in peace, if that’s what you want.”

“Marcus-”

“I don’t see why she needed to come back,” he growled lowly, shaking his head.

Eli twisted her mouth into a sad smile. “For your own good. Both of you.” She withdrew her wand from inside her sleeve, watching them both flinch, Mr. Chaplain moving slowly in front of his wife as though Eli might attack. “The longer this spell decays, the worse it will become. I work in the Healing field now and even I can’t predict how awful the effects might be. It should never have been left this long.”

“Worse,” Mrs. Chaplain repeated weakly. “How much worse?”

She turned her wand over and over in her fingers, debating how much to tell them—before finally deciding it didn’t matter anyway. “You could both lose your own sanity. Or worse, honestly, there’s no standard for this.”

Mr. Chaplain pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dear god.”

“But…there is a solution,” Eli murmured, lifting her wand and gesturing with it faintly.

“What, killing us?” he hissed.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she snarled right back, furious at him. “You’re treating me as if you don’t even know me, when you two _raised_ me! The fact that you can’t love me after you thought you were my father for over sixteen years at the very least is _despicable_ , honestly! And I’m offering you a bloody way out, so you had better listen to me or I won’t help _you_ , I’ll only help your wife. You can lose your mind for all I care.”

He took an alarmed step back, but Eli was angry now, advancing on him, fury making her hands shake. “You’ve always hated what I am, even when you were convinced I was your own, biological child—do you have any idea how that made me feel? Do you know how _wretched_ an existence that would be if I hadn’t found my real father?!”

A hand curled around her wrist, and Eli froze, stunned to see Mrs. Chaplain holding her gently, face weary and sad. “I’m sorry, Eliana,” she whispered. “I am so, so sorry. But…” She took both of Eli’s hands in her own, ever so gentle, her voice calm and steady as she spoke. “It’s a good thing you found your family, in the end. Your real family, I mean. It’ll be good for you, to have a home where you can be yourself and _know_ you won’t be judged for it. We did our best, always, but the truth is… Something has always felt wrong. To you too, hasn’t it?”

Eli nodded numbly.

“So do what you need to do, sweetheart. Whatever will make your heart happy.” Caroline smiled at her, gently, _motherly_. “I did love you, though. However else I might have messed up… I always did love you. It may not count for much, but…you were _my_ daughter, as long as you could be.”

And then she folded Eli in a tight, warm embrace. When she pulled back, Eli found herself choking with tears, no longer resolved to do this but terrified, horrorstruck by the idea of living in a world without the woman she’d called _mum_ for so very long. But there was nothing for it. She hadn’t told them they might go mad just to frighten them—it was true. All her research into the sort of spell Evangeline McKinnon might’ve used told her there was only one outcome.

Unless she did something to stop it.

“To save you…” Eli swallowed hard and wiped at her eyes. “To save you, I have to remove your memories of me. All of them. That will fix everything. And it’s the only solution, the only possible way to go about this.”

“But—Eli-”

She shook her head fiercely. “I’ve done all the research, I’ve tried, but that’s it.” Eli twisted her grip on her wand again. “It’s painless, I swear. And the effects are far-reaching, there won’t be a trace of me left anywhere in your lives, not a bit. Nothing to confuse you or hurt you down the line. It’s very different than what you had used on you before.”

“And this will cure us?” Mr. Chaplain asked, visibly cowed. “You’re certain?”

“Yes. I promise you, this will be it. You’ll never face problems like this again.” And she could make that promise—Eli hadn’t gotten to where she was by being simply mediocre. Her spell would be powerful enough to alter their lives forever, to erase herself completely, and fix everything her mother had accidentally set in motion. It was never supposed to be in place this long, Evangeline McKinnon clearly hadn’t thought she’d die in the war, or die with Eli’s existence still a secret… But now it fell to Eli herself to remedy the whole thing. She didn’t fail to see the irony in that.

Eli gestured faintly at the sofa. “It’s… It’ll be easier if you sit down. Less confusing.” They moved to sit there, and she saw Mr. Chaplain lift a hand and grip Caroline’s, a silent connection. Then Eli raised her wand, stilled her hand and whispered, “ _Obliviate_.”

And her life faded away.

\--

For once, Eli really let Mrs. Weasley make a truly big deal out of her birthday, throwing a party just for friends and family at the Burrow, complete with a homemade cake and everything. She needed it, honestly, she needed to feel loved somehow. At her insistence, though, nobody brought her presents—except the few who did it anyway. Simon and the twins all pitched in together to get her a special case for the Potions kit Sirius had given her, to protect it and let her bring it along to Hogwarts the next year. Mrs. Weasley—who was still trying to get Eli to call her _Molly_ —gave her a beautiful hairpin of a butterfly that flapped its wings gently every so often. And Remus, though she knew he was definitely struggling with money, gave her a copy of one of the rarest Healers’ texts in the entire wizarding world. How he’d gotten it she had _no_ clue, but she wasn’t about to ask.

She moved her things into the flat above the twins’ shop without a lot of fuss, happily putting her few personal effects in George’s room and expanding the closet to fit her clothes, and commemorating the occasion by cooking a big dinner for the four of them. Eli knew she would miss them all, George especially, but she really wanted to learn to be a Healer, which she’d never manage by staying in the twins’ shop all her life.

So, at the end of the summer, Eli packed what she needed and Apparated to Hogsmeade before the term began. She had lodgings in the teachers’ wing, just a modest room with an attached bathroom, but she didn’t mind that so much. It was a far sight better than sharing a dorm with a handful of girls who hated her.

Just before her position officially started, Eli nipped down to Hogsmeade and Apparated to Grimmauld Place. Harry had inherited the house from Sirius after his passing, and continued to lend it out to the Order as headquarters, and a handful of them were around virtually all the time. That included Remus, who she knew would be there that night. Tonks had confirmed it when she’d arrived the day before, fulfilling her job of keeping an eye on Hogwarts. Eli had a very important task to complete, or, rather, to explain, but when she arrived they were just finishing up a meeting, so she was forced to wait.

Slowly, lingering like they had all the time in the world, the members of the Order meandered their way out of the dining room, most of them giving Eli polite nods or greeting her as they went. But none of them were the person she wanted to see.

Finally, the very last one out, Remus appeared, limping a bit and looking worse for wear, but not anywhere near as poorly as she’d seen him before. When he spotted her, his gaze lit up and he opened his arms for her. “What are you doing here?” he asked warmly, as she embraced him tightly. “I thought you were meant to start at Hogwarts tomorrow.”

Eli dipped her head and released him. “I am, dad, I just wanted to come speak with you first… There’s something I needed to tell you, and I should’ve brought it up earlier but I’ve been a bit, well…anxious about it.” She cleared her throat, embarrassed that she’d babbled like that.

But he just nodded, looking so worried, and guided her into the kitchen to speak. “Is something wrong, Eli?” he asked her.

She couldn’t help but smile. He’d really stepped into the role of her father through the summer, being sweet and protective while not smothering her too badly, seeing as she was of age and could make her own decisions. It was just nice to feel that cared for, honestly. “I’m all right, don’t worry. I’ve just…made a sort of…life decision, that’s all.” Eli reached into her extended handbag and pulled out what was actually a muggle’s wallet, with some of her own modifications to suit her purposes. Inside was the enchanted identification card all Hogwarts teachers were given, to get them through the school’s protective enchantments and the teachers’ wing, as well as a way to identify themselves to any officials who might come calling at the school. She took that out now, flipping it between her fingers nervously as she spoke. “Now, I haven’t a clue how you’ll feel about this, but I thought you should know anyway…”

Gently as he could, Remus reached out and caught her hands, stilling the nervous fiddling she’d been doing. “I’m sure it’ll be just fine,” he reassured her.

Of course it would, and she knew that, but it didn’t make her much calmer when she passed him the card.

Remus took it with a smile, clearly not recognizing that the card itself was what she was so nervous about. “Ah! So you’ve gotten your identification card, brilliant. It’s always amused me that Dumbledore likes this method of getting through the enchantments, it’s quite a muggle tool, isn’t it? And it’s…” But he trailed off as he examined the card. “But…Eli…this says…”

She licked her lips nervously. “It does.”

“These—these can only say what’s officially on file at the Ministry.” His eyes were wide in astonishment. “But you…last I heard you hadn’t…”

Eli nodded. “I hadn’t told anyone until just before I left Diagon Alley. I waited for all the chaos after the Department of Mysteries to die down, because I knew the Ministry would be having a right awful time of things, but once that was over I just…paid them a visit and got everything sorted out. Kingsley helped me with the whole process, so it was really easy, actually.” She gave him a nervous sort of wavering grin. “I would’ve done it before my seventh year but I knew everyone would fuss that I’d decided too quickly, so I held off.”

Remus traced a finger over the card, looking between it and her as if he thought he was in a dream. “Are you—really certain, Eli? Truly? You know the…the stigma that’s attached, I don’t want you to miss out on anything because of this…”

“It’s not going to be a problem,” she denied, waving him off. “If anything it’ll help me sort out who the really dreadful people are.” Eli tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she regarded him, trying to read his emotions. “So are you…all right with it? I know you said it was my decision, but even so, there’s a difference between the figurative and the practical…”

“It _is_ your decision,” Remus insisted firmly. “I wouldn’t tell you otherwise. But as it stands…yes, I’m all right with it. It’s rather…flattering, really. Though I can’t imagine why you’d want that.”

Eli grinned and took the card back from him, glancing at it before she safely put it away. Simon and the twins had been completely supportive, and now, with her father’s support too, she knew she’d made the right decision. “ _Because_ you’re my father,” she laughed. “And because I’ve got no attachment to anything else I might choose. I know who I am now and I’m happy for everyone to know it too.”

Remus shook his head like she was a complete mystery to him, but he pulled her in for a hug anyway, pressing one hand to the back of her head. “What am I going to do with you?” he sighed, amused.

She just laughed, so completely happy with everything. For she had made it official, she’d chosen her path—she’d given the Ministry an officially-sanctioned copy of her birth record, had corrected the paperwork that listed her as a muggleborn named _Eliana Margery Chaplain_ and instead taken on her rightful name. Her identification card listed her name as _Eliana A. M. Lupin_ , and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

\--

“Madame Pomfrey, where did the bruise removal paste go?” Eli asked, examining a first year’s arm. He’d fallen from his broomstick and gotten banged up a bit, and after ascertaining he didn’t have any broken bones, she only needed to mend the bruises to get him on his way back to class, something the kid didn’t seem too thrilled about.

Hardly looking up from her desk, Poppy Pomfrey flicked her wand and sent the paste in question flying from the back cabinet and into Eli’s outstretched hand. It was in poor practice to just summon healing potions and salves and the like all the time, because if they were left uncapped or in a locked cabinet, the whole batch could be ruined in transit. So when items got misplaced or just put all the way in the back, it was best just to ask. Eli had learnt that the hard way, when she’d summoned a bottle of wart-removal cream and spilled it all over the floor. Now she knew better.

It was now several weeks into her apprenticeship, and Eli didn’t have one single regret. In fact, she was thoroughly pleased with her position, working among the students and aiding Madame Pomfrey. The Healer had taken a little to adjust to her, but once they’d found their rhythm, she actually said that Eli made her job a far sight easier, which was high praise from her, honestly. Eli could handle the smaller problems on her own, leaving Madame Pomfrey able to get through paperwork, or focus on bigger maladies when they arose. And besides that, Eli could keep the hospital wing better stocked than ever, which was especially important now that Dumbledore had caved and made Snape the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, bringing back an old employee called Slughorn to take over Potions. It seemed the Healer trusted Eli more than she did him, which was both alarming and flattering.

With the first year taken care of, Eli cleaned her hands with a wave of her wand and half-jogged over to Madame Pomfrey. “Do you need me for anything tonight?” she asked curiously. “Professor Slughorn asked me to attend one of his Potions dinners, and I thought I might humor him—though if he tries to rope me into any extra work I’ll turn him down for sure.”

“Hmph. You’d better.” The Healer eyed her thoughtfully. “I don’t see any harm in it, Miss Lupin. But expect me to send for you if anything comes up.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Eli grinned and excused herself then, hurrying up to her room to change into something party-appropriate. She _knew_ he’d only invited her because of her aptitude for potion-making, but it was still nice to be included, though she was now technically staff as well. It was an interesting change to make, considering she still felt like a student, still hurried her steps when she passed a professor in the hallways close to the students’ curfew.

Jinx met her at the door, returning from what she liked to think of as his _rounds_ —he preferred to wander the castle while she worked, occasionally stopping in to say hello but mostly hunting mice and chasing first years round the hallways. More often than not, Eli found him curled in the lap of some timid, homesick first year in the library, purring and kneading on their lap, trying to help however he could. He was a sweet kitty, more of a castle cat than just _her_ cat, but she didn’t mind it. Everyone knew he was _Miss Lupin’s_ cat.

She still had to pretend it didn’t give her a little happy flicker every time someone called her that.

Eli dressed quick as she could in a dress with a black and white striped skirt and sheer black sleeves, pinning the top of her hair back and adding some heels to give the illusion that she’d actually tried. Really she was doing this out of curiosity and nothing more.

Jinx meowed impatiently until she gave him his dinner, then she petted him on the head and left the room, charming the door to shut once he’d left. Couldn’t be too careful.

The dungeons, at least, were quite familiar to her, so it was easy to trace her way to the party room, and thankfully it was hardly begun when she arrived. Professor Slughorn waved happily when she walked in and ushered her to a spot beside him at the table, immediately questioning her about the potions she’d invented. “I can’t believe you’re going to put all your talents into Healing,” he mused, shaking his head. “You could be famous in the potion-making world.”

“Fame isn’t my interest, though,” Eli explained as kindly as she could. “Helping people is.”

“Don’t you work with Madame Pomfrey?” asked a Ravenclaw boy she didn’t recognize.

Eli bobbed her head. “I’m her apprentice, currently. But I have a focus in Potions as well, I created a handful of my own while I was still in school.” That comment was met with some awe, from the students who hadn’t known—and particularly an encouraging look from Hermione, who was across the table from her.

Then a Gryffindor boy, with sandy blond hair and a smug look, a seventh year she recalled seeing around, gave her an appraising look and opened his mouth. The twins didn’t like him much, if she remembered properly. “Hang on, weren’t you just in school last year? Eli Chaplain, right? How’d you get to be an apprentice already? I thought you had to go through loads of training to get there, you can’t just jump in.”

Was he…attempting to _flirt_ with her? By putting her down? Eli almost laughed in his face, but instead she channeled every ounce of composure she’d inherited from her father and gave him a placid smile. “Usually, but I helped out last year, and I’d shown promise back in my fifth year as well. So she made an exception.”

Slughorn looked quite pleased with her, though she hadn’t a clue why. “Yes, Poppy says Miss Lupin here is one of the best up and coming Healers she’s seen in a long time.”

The blond boy’s eyes got very wide. Oh, _McLaggen_ , that was his name. Fred had made up a rather nasty rhyme with his surname at one point. “ _Lupin_?” he asked in disbelief. “Thought it was _Chaplain_. Isn’t that the same surname as that the dodgy, tattered fellow we had teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts a few years ago?”

Eli’s hands grew very hot in mere seconds. “Mind your tone,” she warned quietly.

He snorted, apparently not hearing her. “I heard he was a werewolf, wasn’t that right? Can’t believe the Headmaster had him teaching students, especially the younger ones, it’d be quite dangerous, I’d expect…”

Ginny shot Eli a warning look, but it was far too late.

“And you’re suggesting lycanthropes are dangerous outside the full moon?” Eli demanded, crossing her arms. “I’d keep your prejudices to yourself, especially when you’re speaking about my _father_ , McLaggen. Besides, I’d think anyone with an inclination towards Potions would be familiar with the Wolfsbane Potion and the effects it has on a lycanthrope’s transformation.”

Hurrying to intervene before a real argument could break out, Slughorn rested a hand on Eli’s shoulder and announced rather loudly, “You brewed one in your fifth year, didn’t you? I’ve heard it was excellent.”

Hermione piped up then. “It was. From what I understood, it was perfect, in fact.”

Slughorn grinned almost triumphantly. “Well, I know who I’m asking if I ever need a substitute.” He carefully guided the conversation elsewhere, but Eli could see McLaggen stealing furtive looks at her every once in a while, as if he thought she might turn into a wolf spontaneously and attack him. It wasn’t a bad idea, but she wasn’t an Animagus and Remus might actually faint if hers turned out to be a wolf, honestly.

At the end of the party, Slughorn asked Eli to stay for a moment, and she almost groaned. _Here we go. He’ll ask me to assist him or something. I haven’t got time for that!_

“Are you all right, Miss Lupin?” he asked instead, rather kindly.

Eli was ashamed she’d suspected him so intensely. “I’m fine, sir,” she told him. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I’m sorry if I disturbed your party, I never meant to get so…intense about it. He hit a nerve, that’s all.”

Slughorn nodded knowingly. “I’d imagine so. Nasty business, fielding such things, but it does crop up… I must ask, though, why was Mr. McLaggen so confused on your name?”

“I’ve only just changed it,” she explained. Eli had decided, before the year began, to simply be honest about her situation with anyone who bothered to ask. She’d plotted out a few lies, but the problem was it all came around to looking ashamed of her history, and she wanted to wear it proudly. In this case, telling the truth was best. Eventually the proper story would circulate and everyone would stop asking, once it lost its novelty. “For most of my life I didn’t know I was anything but muggleborn, and Remus—my dad—he had no idea I even existed. I only just got it sorted. So being back here, well, I’m bound to run into some snags here and there.”

He beamed at her. “It’s good you found your family, at least. You know, I taught Remus and his friends, and while I can’t say he was very _good_ at Potions, he did try his hardest.”

Eli almost giggled. Slughorn was trying to be nice, but honestly, Remus himself had admitted he was hopeless at Potions. It was a serious part of why the Wolfsbane Potion was so unreachable for him. “You would’ve taught my mother as well,” she added on. “She’s where I got all my talent, I think. Evangeline McKinnon?”

A fond, glazed look came over Slughorn. “Oh, Eva was _brilliant_. No wonder you’ve such a mind for it. I hadn’t a clue she and Remus—but the poor dear, what an awful fate… You know, you do look quite a lot like her, now that I think about it… Goodness.” He patted her shoulder and smiled, though his eyes were still very far away. “I would’ve liked to teach you, but I’m happy to have you in my little club anyway, Miss Lupin. Don’t worry about Mr. McLaggen. I’ll see to it that he won’t bother you again.”

Well, she wasn’t sure what he meant, but the intention was nice. Eli wasn’t afraid of McLaggen, though, she’d faced much worse than him. She _was_ afraid, however, that she’d hex the living daylights out of him if he insulted her father again. It wouldn’t be very good for her apprenticeship.

\--

On the first Hogsmeade trip of the school year, Eli meandered on down as a sort of chaperone, not really intending to do much but wander the streets freely. It was different to go down as an adult, without a permission slip, as a member of the staff… Yet in Hogsmeade she felt a bit more childish, felt the pull to empty her purse on sweets in Honeyduke’s or ridiculous products in Zonko’s. Though…if she did the latter, the twins might never forgive her. Better to keep her purse heavy and her hands empty.

Eli popped into the Three Broomsticks and waved at Harry, Ron, and Hermione as she got a hot butterbeer to go, and stepped back into the growing blizzard. She’d been asked to keep a particular eye on the third years, as it was their first time in the village and the weather was utterly abhorrent. Not that she thought she could even spot them in the bloody weather, but she’d give it a go.

As the afternoon wound down, Eli did finally buy a couple little knickknacks, mostly for other people, and after herding a few third years off from going to the Shrieking Shack she began to make her way back to Hogwarts.

Just as she was rounding the bend, out of sight of Hogsmeade, someone let out an awful, bloodcurdling scream.

Eli cursed and rushed forward, wand out in moments, to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing in abject horror—while ahead of them, a girl with a Hufflepuff scarf tried frantically to pull a Gryffindor girl down…who was floating in the air, screaming, her hair whipping around her violently.

Then the Gryffindor girl fell heavily into the snow, her body eerily still.

“Katie!” her friend shrieked.

Eli pushed past the three and dropped to her knees in the snow, flicking her wand over the girl’s still form and assessing the situation. _That was a curse,_ she knew quite certainly. _She needs…let’s see…_ She pulled a small vial out of her Healer’s pouch—which was always around her waist nowadays—and tipped a few drops down the girl’s throat. It was crystalline and shimmered faintly, and very expensive… A potion to slow the effects of curses, if they were intended to be fatal.

“Get back! All o’ yeh!”

Hagrid, Eli realized dimly. But she didn’t dare move from the girl’s side. With a gloved hand, she brushed hair from her face, recognizing Katie Bell from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Katie was sweet, she wouldn’t get involved with anything Dark… So what the bloody hell had happened?

“Eli?” The half-giant approached her, sounding surprised. “Didn’t recognize yeh there… Have yeh got her?”

She nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure. “What did this to her?” she asked, turning her head to face the four students still hovering nearby in shock.

Harry was the first to react. “I—I think it was this…” He reached for something that had fallen in the snow, brown paper fluttering in the wind, having been discarded when Katie was cursed, ostensibly. Eli couldn’t make out what it was from there.

“Don’t touch it!” Hagrid ordered fiercely. “’Cept by the wrappings. Be very careful.”

Eli yanked her glove off and pressed two fingers to the underside of Katie’s jaw, counting off in her head. Her pulse was a bit slow, but steady at least. “We’ve got to get her back to the castle,” she told Hagrid, looking up at him. “She’s stable right now but there’s no telling how long that’ll last. I don’t have everything I need with me.”

He nodded once, then bent and scooped Katie up like she weighed no more than a toddler. Then, without a word, he began striding off towards the castle, quicker than any of them could’ve gone. Satisfied that Katie would be taken care of, Eli stood and approached the four. “Did anyone see what happened?” she asked urgently, looking between the three Gryffindors and the still-crying Hufflepuff.

“Sh-she got that…parcel in the loo,” the Hufflepuff sniffed, pointing a shaking hand at the package still resting in the snow. “And she kept saying she h-h-had to deliver it, but she wouldn’t say where she g-got it…”

Eli crouched to examine it, finding a beautiful, ornate necklace beset with opals. It looked very old and very expensive. But the energy coming off it was wickedly dark, something that made her want to turn the other way. Only someone who’d been Imperiused would dare touch it without question, without wondering the reason it needed to be delivered. “Has any of you got a scarf you can wrap it in, or something to keep from touching it?”

Harry quickly unwound his scarf and offered it to her, and Eli laid it out in the snow. She carefully levitated the package, necklace and paper and all, to sit atop the scarf—then she quickly folded the scarf over the whole thing, wrapping it up tightly so it couldn’t possibly touch someone else. “Right. You take that, Harry. We’re going straight back to the castle. You’re all still underage so I’ve got to keep my wand out, I’ll keep us safe if anything happens. Follow me.” Without another word, Eli turned and trudged through the snow, the four on her heels, trying to keep her hands from trembling. Something was very, very wrong. Almost as an afterthought, she created one of her signature messenger birds and sent it ahead to Madame Pomfrey, letting her know what had happened and what she’d already used on Katie, to avoid any negative interactions.

They arrived back at the castle and were met immediately by Professor McGonagall, who looked very drawn and worried. “Come with me, please,” she asked quietly, but firmly. “All five of you, please, even you, Miss Lupin.”

Not that she’d been planning on doing anything else…

They followed McGonagall to her office, where the Hufflepuff, Leanne, recounted the story as she’d seen it, now with a bit more composure. She gave a bit more detail this time—how Katie seemed just…off, how she’d been a bit dazed, walking almost lopsided at times, not at all like herself.

When the girl had finished, McGonagall sighed and pursed her lips. “And you’re sure Katie did not have this in her possession when she entered the Three Broomsticks?” she asked, clarifying.

Leanne nodded timidly. “It’s—it’s like I said, ma’am. She left to go to the loo, and when she came back…she had the package. She said it was important that she deliver it, but she wouldn’t say why, or who’d given it to her.”

“Did she say to whom?” the professor inquired, her face tensing.

With a tentative bob of her head, almost birdlike, the girl whispered, “To Professor Dumbledore.”

Eli frowned deeply, glancing up to exchange a worried look with Professor McGonagall. If she’d reached her target…

“Very well,” McGonagall pronounced gravely. “You may go, Leanne. I’m sure Madame Pomfrey can sort you out, why don’t you go along to the hospital wing? She can have someone escort you to your dormitory afterwards, if you’d like.”

At that, the girl left quickly, still wiping her eyes.

“Why is it,” the professor asked wearily, rounding on the three students still standing awkwardly to the side, “when something happens, it is always you three?”

Ron shifted uncomfortably. “Believe me, Professor… I’ve been asking myself the same question for six years.”

“Did you see any of this occur, Miss Lupin?” She turned to Eli then, brow furrowed.

Eli started at being remembered, as she’d thought her account didn’t matter much—she’d only come in at the end, anyway, and she thought the whole story had been recounted well enough already. “I only caught the tail end,” she explained carefully. “I heard Katie scream, and I saw her in the air… Saw her fall… I knew she was in trouble, it wasn’t exactly hard to tell, so I did what I could for her in the moment. Madame Pomfrey will know what I used, I sent a messenger bird ahead to let her know.”

“And…what did you do for her?” McGonagall’s voice was rather terse. “There is very little you can do for someone in that situation…”

“I would guess a life-sustaining potion,” a smooth voice suggested from the back of the room.

Eli spun round to see Snape entering the room in a flourish of black robes, presumably summoned to deal with the cursed necklace. “Yes,” she murmured, inclining her head. “I’ve been carrying some on me, just in case.”

He looked a touch impressed, though he didn’t say it. Eli had nearly alienated him when she took her father’s surname—it was a miracle when he was civil with her nowadays.

“Ah, Severus,” McGonagall greeted quickly, beckoning him over. “What do you think?”

Snape gave the faintest twitch of his wand, and the necklace floated up, spinning slowly in the air. “I think,” he began, eyeing it dubiously, “that Miss Bell is rather lucky to be alive.” Then he shot a glance at Eli from the corner of his eye. “Lucky she had a Healer so close by, might be more accurate.”

“She was cursed, wasn’t she?” Harry asked, stepping forward and getting Snape’s attention. “I know Katie, off the Quidditch pitch she wouldn’t hurt a fly. If she really was delivering that to Professor Dumbledore, well… She wasn’t doing it knowingly. She’d never.” He looked ready to defend her, his teammate, and it was rather admirable, really.

“Yes,” Professor McGonagall confirmed softly. “She was cursed.”

Harry looked indecisive for a moment, glanced at Eli as if he were considering something—and she wanted to cut him off, but he spoke before she could do anything. “It was Malfoy.”

Eli shot him a harsh look. He oughtn’t to go accusing anyone of something like this, unless he had good, hard proof. Which she could already tell he didn’t, just by his tone.

McGonagall looked shocked. “That is a very serious accusation, Potter,” she breathed.

But while she might have listened, Snape was already drawing himself up, going on the attack. Eli knew he’d defend a member of his house to the bitter end—and _especially_ Malfoy, he’d always doted on the boy, always let him get away with anything he wanted. Malfoy had been one of the first to hear about her father’s condition at the time, and wasted no time in spreading it, she’d later learnt. And naturally, he received no punishment for his actions.

“Indeed,” he nearly hissed, narrowing his eyes. “And your evidence?”

Harry looked stubbornly back. “I just know.”

Eli could’ve smacked her own forehead. What a ridiculous defense. Everyone knew Harry and Malfoy had a rivalry, and while she didn’t pretend to like the pasty-faced brat, she knew better than to go head to head with Snape about him. It would only ever end in trouble.

“You _just know_ ,” Snape drawled, smirking. “Once again, you’ve astonished me with your gifts, Potter. Gifts mere mortals can only dream of possessing. How grand it must be, to be the Chosen One.”

Professor McGonagall stepped forward then, cutting off what no doubt would have been a continued tirade against Harry and his supposed gifts. But Eli got the sense Harry had more to say—he just wasn’t comfortable saying it in mixed company, so to speak. She’d make a point to find out more later, when no one else was around to hear.

“I suggest you three go back to your dormitories,” McGonagall told them softly, dismissing them.

The three left hesitantly, Harry throwing one last sort of pointed look over his shoulder at Eli. She met his gaze but resisted the urge to nod—she had no desire to let Snape in on whatever else he had in his head. She’d find out what she could and take it to the Order later.

“Where did you come by that potion, Miss—Lupin?” Snape asked, purposefully pausing just before he said her surname.

Eli turned to him. “I brewed it myself, actually. Thought it might be useful, and it was, as it turned out.” She crossed her arms over her chest, more defensively than anything else. “I’m sure plenty of people want Professor Dumbledore dead, and most of them work with you-know-who—but is there anyone who might have access to Hogsmeade? Who could go into the Three Broomsticks and not raise alarm?”

“No one we know of,” Professor McGonagall sighed, looking rather frazzled. “Severus, you will take care of that necklace, won’t you?”

He dipped his head. “Naturally.” Closing it in its box, Snape levitated it right into his hand. He bade them goodnight and strode out without another word to Eli, though she was sort of glad for it. For all he’d been her advocate…if all it took to turn him against her was Remus being her father, well… Good riddance, in the end.

“It’s a very good thing you were there,” McGonagall murmured, looking at Eli a bit tensely. “I—know what you’re part of, Miss Lupin… So I’ll ask you… Please, keep an eye on Potter and his friends. They have the worst penchant for getting into trouble.”

Eli smiled kindly. “I already am, Professor.”

She left the room then, but rather than heading towards the hospital wing or her room, she headed up the moving staircases to Gryffindor Tower. Just as she’d thought, Harry was loitering outside the portrait hole, apparently struck with indecision as to whether he should go somewhere or not—but he looked at her with relief when she approached, at least. “Eli, hey,” he greeted. “Can—d’you think we could talk somewhere?”

“Somewhere…private?” she supplied. “There ought to be an empty classroom down this way.” Eli led him down a small offshoot passage, recalling from the Marauder’s Map where a largely unused classroom sat, behind a stone door that blended in rather effectively with the wall. Still, it opened easily with a tap of her wand, and she ushered him inside before closing the door. “Now,” Eli began, leaning against a dusty old desk, “what’s all this about Malfoy cursing Katie?”

Harry looked troubled. “He’s—been sneaking around all year, and before the term started, we…saw him go into Borgin and Burkes, in Knockturn Alley.”

“Meaning you followed him there,” she supplied dryly. “Not exactly the safest tactic.”

He shook his head, dismissing her. “But—look, this’ll mean something to you… He threatened Borgin by…by naming Fenrir Greyback.”

Eli felt cold all at once, as if ice water had been thrown over her. _Greyback._ Oh, that absolutely meant something to her. Fenrir Greyback was the one who’d turned Remus, the one who’d sought him out and bitten him purposefully as revenge for something his father had said, something four-year-old Remus had been entirely innocent of. Once, with a little firewhiskey and some privacy, her father had actually confided his story in her, and had told her all about Greyback, how he was reportedly a cannibal and had only joined Voldemort to satiate his urges. He was a despicable creature.

“Greyback,” she breathed, tugging a hand through her curls. “Bloody hell. He always drops his father’s name as an idle threat, but…to name Greyback of all creatures…” Eli closed her eyes. “You need to keep this to yourself, all right? I’ll write my dad about today and try to get a feel for what he thinks, but… Whatever Lucius Malfoy is, no one is going to believe Voldemort has a kid doing his dirty work.”

“He’d do it, though,” Harry argued back. “You know he doesn’t care about how old-”

But Eli cut him off. “Listen to me. If you go running around blaming Malfoy for all this, no matter if it’s true or not, you’ll only make things worse. I’ll keep an eye on him, he’s a bit nervous of me since he knows I’ll hex him into next year, but you can’t play the hero on this. All right? No, look.” He’d begun to glare at her. “Let’s suppose Malfoy really was behind the necklace, that he’s trying to kill Dumbledore—it wouldn’t have worked, Dumbledore’s absolutely too clever to be fooled by a cursed necklace. It’s sloppy. He isn’t a real threat just now. And trust me, he’s a bloody Slytherin, if he were really trying he’d be doing a far better job than this. Your history with Malfoy will work against you. So keep your nose clean and keep looking for proof, but don’t make a scene. It won’t do any good.”

Harry crossed his arms and gave her a fierce look. “So—do nothing. That’s what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying be careful,” Eli amended with a sigh. “I’m going to write my dad and let him know what happened today, and I’ll make the point that it has to be someone who could go into the Three Broomsticks unnoticed—I said the same to McGonagall and Snape anyway, to put it into their heads. But if you make too many accusations before you know for certain, no one will believe you when the time comes.”

He took a deep breath, shoulders slumping just a bit as the tension came out of him. “But…you believe me, then?”

Eli raised an eyebrow. “I knew Malfoy for five years, I even was Captain of the Quidditch team with him on it. I know that boy is capable of cruelty. But we have to know how deeply that runs or we’ll only make it easier for him. All right? Be careful. And tell me if you hear anything, see anything, whatever. I’ll get information to the Order quicker than anyone else.”

Harry nodded slowly, accepting that. “All right.” He turned to leave, but paused at the door, trying for something like a smile—though he was clearly far too stressed for that. “Thanks, Eli.”

“That’s half the reason I’m here,” she dismissed. “Now get to bed, I’m not quite important enough to cover you roaming the halls after hours.”

\--

Jinx was waiting for Eli when she returned to her room, as if he knew the day had been stressful. He complained until she put him on her shoulder, like a furry parrot, and remained there while Eli settled at her desk and began to pen her letter to Remus.

 

_Dad,_

_This is partly business and partly because I need to let everything out to someone I trust—and unfortunately for you, you’re it._

_On the business side:_

_A girl was cursed today, accidentally, when she touched a necklace she’d been—in my opinion—Imperiused to bring to Dumbledore. Now I believe he would’ve caught the curse before he was in any real danger, but the point remains that someone is trying very hard to kill him. The girl got the package in the Three Broomsticks, went into the loo and came out with it, so the culprit must be someone who can actually_ enter _the pub without raising suspicions. Any ideas would be welcome because McGonagall and Snape seemed to have no idea, not as far as they told me. What I do know is something very awful is going on. I’m keeping an eye out, certainly, but I wanted everyone to be aware too._

_On the personal side:_

_I…think I sort of saved somebody’s life today. The girl who got cursed, Katie Bell… I saw the end of it, and I tended to her, I had a particular potion with me to help, so it wasn’t really much effort on my part, but even so… Professor Snape suggested I’d probably saved her life. All on instinct. I’m not trying to pat myself on the back for it, it’s my job after all, but I only wonder…what could’ve happened if I weren’t there. I don’t know if I made an actual difference or not. And I mean, I don’t know really, but it seems that it should feel like it mattered more._

_Blimey, I’m sorry. I’m just prattling on here when the real point is to alert you and the others to what happened. I’ll stop being ridiculous now. Sorry, dad._

_I’ll see you at Christmas!_

_Love,_

_Eli_

 

With that taken care of, Eli tucked the parchment into her pocket and headed to the owlery to send her letter, a bit embarrassed but not wanting to delay any further. Jinx accompanied her, trailing between her legs as she selected an owl, and then leading her back into the castle, apparently checking around corners and such to make sure she was safe. It was sweet, really.

Then suddenly, Jinx hissed and darted into the next hallway.

“You filthy creature! Get away!”

Eli raced around the bend to find Draco Malfoy trying to get past her faithful cat, who was blocking his advance, sporting a puffy tail and raised hackles, practically spitting at him.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Eli called out, crossing her arms. “What are you doing out so late? It’s past curfew.”

He sneered at her. “Sod off, Chaplain.”

But she didn’t rise to that. “It’s Miss Lupin now, I am part of the staff. And you’re out past curfew.” Eli almost grinned, though she held it back at the last second. “Detention, Mr. Malfoy. This Saturday.” And yes, she was entirely aware the Slytherins had Quidditch practice that day, which was exactly why she’d picked it in particular—she wasn’t above being underhanded that way. Her own house or not, Eli wasn’t going to let him get away with anything.

“What?!” His face contorted. “How dare y-”

“I’ll take it from here, Miss Lupin,” Snape interjected icily, appearing from the opposite end of the hall. “I assure you, he will be…appropriately dealt with.”

Eli stood her ground. “Yes, with his detention this Saturday,” she insisted firmly. “You can add what you’d like, but I stand by that. It’s past curfew.” Risking a bit, she added, “I know he’s a Slytherin and all, but there’s no playing favorites, not in today’s world.”

Oh, that had royally pissed him off. But Eli wasn’t afraid.

“Indeed,” he agreed, his voice swimming with venom. “We wouldn’t want to do that.” Snape eyed her harshly, and Eli swallowed hard, realizing she’d put herself in a rather tenuous position. He really did hate her father, which was trickling down to her at this stage…and faced with both Malfoy _and_ Snape…alone in a hallway…

Jinx hissed again, standing between her and Snape like a tiny, fluffy barrier.

Not entirely alone, then.

Snape glared down at the little cat. Then he shook his head and grabbed Malfoy’s shoulder, practically dragging him along. “Goodnight, Miss Lupin.”

Eli sighed and picked up her cat once the two were gone, pulling him close to her chest. “Well, that was a close one, huh, Jinxy?” she murmured. “Dad would be furious if he knew I pulled that stunt.” She petted the cat’s head and he purred, rubbing into her fingers happily. “Don’t tell him, all right? Let’s just keep this between us.”


	20. Fiery Heartbeats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating again because I can... I hope you enjoyed that last one!! This is quite a long one - over 9k words - but it felt like the natural place to stop. Enjoy!!!

Eli couldn’t say she was surprised to receive Slughorn’s invitation to his Christmas party. She _almost_ wanted to attend, but she found out Harry would be going as well and decided it would be beneficial to at least make an appearance and check up on everything.

Her apprenticeship kept her very busy, even taking a few overnights with some Quidditch injuries, but she didn’t mind one bit. But while she didn’t mind, the same couldn’t be said for George and her father. Apparently they’d taken to writing each other about her, worrying, taking turns checking in on her. It was borderline stifling, to be honest, but they meant well and she was loathe to tell them off for it. So every week, without fail, _one_ of them wrote her to see if she’d been sleeping and eating and generally taking care of herself. Mostly she was looking forward to staying at the Burrow for Christmas and actually being around them, so they could stop fretting.

But first, the party.

Not to be outdone by anybody, Eli had selected a dress enchanted to glimmer with stars at the bottom, and heels with swirling galaxies on the toes. Jinx kept chasing them as she got ready. She wrapped a sheer shawl around her bare arms, seeing as it was winter after all, and then headed down alone—the only person she would’ve wanted as her date was all the way in London. Beyond George, she didn’t need anyone else on her arm.

She arrived after pretty much all the students had gotten there, by choice—after all, it could be a touch awkward to make a big fuss about an apprentice being at a student party. Naturally, Slughorn wanted to show her off as some kind of up-and-coming prodigy, but overall it wasn’t too bad. Most of his high society guests were just polite with her, understanding of the professor’s manner, so the whole thing wasn’t entirely miserable. Still…this sort of a party just wasn’t her scene. It was amusing watching poor Hermione dodging McLaggen’s attempts at courting—her own fault, really, since she’d invited him in the first place—but for the most part, Eli just…wanted to be back in her room.

Though she was in the best place she could be, for both the Order and her future, it still was difficult not being part of the action. Eli had made her choice, and she stood by it, she loved her apprenticeship and wouldn’t choose another path even if she could… And yet…

She wanted to _fight_. It was a growing certainty inside of her, affecting her every bloody choice. Not because she longed for danger, or action, but because it was the right thing to do—because it was the only way to defeat Voldemort. _He_ was the reason her mother had placed her with a muggle family, _he_ was the reason she’d grown up away from her father, _he_ was the reason her mother was dead. And Eli wanted to fight against him. She’d make no headway simply healing.

George’s face flashed through her mind, and she winced, guilty. He wouldn’t like that, she knew. He rather liked her staying safe. With anyone else, it might’ve been insulting, but it wasn’t that George didn’t trust her to take care of herself—he wanted everyone he loved out of harm’s way. She couldn’t blame him for that, in the end.

Across the party, there was an awful retching noise, and Eli peered over to see McLaggen rising unsteadily, having just vomited all over Snape’s shoes. She grinned tightly. Deserved it, the both of them. Though she didn’t quite like the look Snape was giving Harry, who was standing just beside McLaggen, looking confused and a bit suspicious, if she wasn’t misreading his expression. Now what was that all about?

“Get your hands off me, you filthy squib!”

The entire party was disrupted as Malfoy was dragged in by Filch, struggling all the way, until he finally wrenched free at the center of the partygoers.

“Professor Slughorn, sir!” Filch looked practically alight with glee. “I’ve just discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party, but he’s got no invitation, you see.”

Malfoy sneered at him. “Okay, okay, I was gate-crashing!” he snapped. “Happy?!”

Eli pursed her lips. Draco Malfoy, gate-crashing Slughorn’s Christmas party? Not bloody likely. Then what the hell was he doing?

Across the room, Harry’s gaze flicked from Malfoy to Eli, just for a moment.

Oh god. His theory about Malfoy, about him attempting to curse Dumbledore… What if there was some genuine merit to it? She hadn’t dismissed it outright, though Remus—when she’d written him—had completely written off the concerns, but now… She couldn’t fathom why else he’d be wandering around at night, unless he was planning something. In her years at Hogwarts, Malfoy had always stayed in his dormitory as long as possible, like it was his own personal safe space.

Snape escorted a rather petulant Malfoy from the party, and only moments later, Harry slipped out with a poignant look at Eli.

She scowled at her hands, watching her fingertips flicker in the dim light. “Bollocks,” she hissed.

\--

Eli didn’t manage to track Harry down for another hour, likely due to his invisibility cloak, but when she did she practically hauled him into the nearest alcove and snapped, “The hell were you thinking? Running off after them like that! _If_ you’re right, _if_ Malfoy’s working with the ruddy Death Eaters, then following them on your own was completely reckless!”

Harry shook his head fiercely. “Eli, look, just—just listen, all right? I overheard them talking, and Snape said he made an Unbreakable Vow to protect him from… _something_ , something bad. He said Malfoy’s afraid. This proves it, Malfoy’s a Death Eater!”

“No, this _proves_ a sixteen-year-old student is afraid of something and his head of house is _very_ determined to protect him.” Eli crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re moving too fast, Harry, you need to have more information. At this point nobody would believe you anyway. And I’m not saying I don’t, bloody hell, Malfoy’s acting strangely, something is going on… But we have nothing solid to back up the theories yet. Okay? You can’t go pursuing this entirely until you know more.”

He scowled, visibly brimming with frustration. “But I _know_ he’s joined, Eli, I can feel it!”

“Then prove it,” she countered. “I’m on your side, I swear, but nobody in the Order is going to listen without proof.”

“I’ve still got to try.” With that, he turned and stalked off down the hall, and Eli leaned into the stones wearily. In another life, she reflected, they might’ve grown up together—considering their fathers were so close. He might’ve been like a little brother to her, his parents like a favorite aunt and uncle, Sirius too… For just a moment, Eli felt the hollow, aching pain of a life she’d lost before it even began, connections she’d never known…

She’d make it up to him over the holiday, she decided. Maybe Remus could find those old photographs he’d once said he still had, and she could give him one with James Potter in it. That would go a long way in mending fences.

Sighing, Eli retreated to her room to pack, Jinx settling beside her trunk and eyeing her like he knew something was wrong. It was, but she wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ admit it until she was somewhere with more…people she could talk to. But Eli wouldn’t be going to the Weasleys’ until the next day, which at that moment seemed like an aeon in the future…

Jinx meowed at her rather insistently, like he understood her mental plight. And maybe he did. Cats were so sensitive to things, in the magical world.

“Sirius would’ve loved you,” she told him, scratching under his chin. “As you are now, I mean, when you were littler you hardly left my room in Grimmauld Place… You’ve gotten to be quite the sharp little creature.”

The cat stared at her with impatient green eyes. Then he nosed her trunk and huffed, exasperated.

“Oh,” Eli whispered. “Right.”

Why did she need to stay overnight? The Weasleys would be happy to see her, she could help Mrs. Weasley with preparations for the next day, surely she’d be glad for the assistance… She was an adult now, an employee of the school. All it would take was a quick jaunt past the barrier and she could Apparate straight there.

So Eli settled her trunk, picked Jinx up—he was happier without a carrier nowadays—and headed out of the castle with her head high. This was much better, she knew, than simply sitting around feeling miserable. Less than half an hour later, she was standing outside the Burrow, her feet growing slightly damp inside her trainers from arriving in a puddle. But Eli didn’t mind much. The air felt clear, lighter, worries lifting from her shoulders as she breathed in deeply, and released the breath to a count of thirty.

The front door cracked open, and Ginny stuck her head out, looking baffled. “Eli?” She stepped out and hopped off the porch, meeting Eli halfway across the yard. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow!”

Eli grinned sheepishly. “Felt a bit lonely, to be honest.”

Jinx leapt down from her arms and wound around Ginny’s legs, purring softly in the quiet night. “Well, I bet mum will be thrilled,” Ginny laughed. “She’s been a right mess all day, worrying about Christmas. Everyone’s coming so it’s a bit of a bigger deal, I suppose, but still… It’s been kind of hectic, watching her.” Ginny had skipped Slughorn’s party—apparently wanting to be home earlier—so she’d left on the first train out of Hogwarts for the holidays, arriving the day before.

“I’ll be glad to help,” Eli told her easily. It felt like home here—she still remembered her first time visiting, how anxious everyone had been of her reaction… But the Burrow had always felt more like home than the place she grew up.

Shaking thoughts of _that_ place aside, she asked, “Has anyone else shown up yet?”

Ginny shook her head. “No, you’re the first. I thought Fred and George and Simon were coming tonight, but they got wrapped up at the shop, so they’ll be along tomorrow. Oh, and mum wanted me to thank you for convincing Remus to come, apparently she’s been trying for _years_ and he always turned her down.”

That made Eli smile. Half the effort had been hers, half had been Tonks, whom she’d gotten to know a bit through the year seeing as the metamorphmagus was often stationed at Hogwarts, on guard duty. She could tell her dad was absolutely smitten with the woman, so she’d asked for a little assistance in convincing him. It had paid off in the end, for they were _both_ coming in the next day, not together but perhaps a few steps from it. For her part, Eli was thoroughly pleased with his choices—Tonks was fun and had a good heart, and knew all about her father’s lycanthropy to boot. Perfect, in her opinion.

“Like I’d let him off the hook for it,” Eli snorted, with a little shake of her head. “I missed out on way too much to put up with his loner nonsense.”

Ginny picked up Jinx, who rubbed into her shoulder happily, and the two headed inside. “I think most everyone is asleep,” the redhead told her quietly, as they entered. “I’m not very good at sleeping anymore, but nobody else has that problem, it seems.”

“I do,” Eli admitted quietly, touching her arm. “I get it, Ginny. I really do.”

Jinx head-butted her chin and gazed up with those all-knowing green eyes, making Ginny crack a smile. “Still, it’s better now that you’re here.”

Eli tipped her head to one side. “Why’s that?” She flicked her wand at her trunk and sent it flying up to her room, figuring that was easier than bothering to take it all the way up by herself. Though she’d been about to… Sometimes she forgot to use magic first.

“Because you’re a Healer,” Ginny explained, sinking onto the sofa and crossing her legs. “If anything happens, you can actually do something about it.” There was a bitterness in her tone that Eli hadn’t expected, something sharp and aching that seemed so out of place in her usually bright demeanor.

And yet…she understood what it was all about. “You feel useless,” she suggested. “I did, for a long time. When Crouch—Junior, I mean—dragged Harry off after Cedric Diggory was killed… I was right there, outside the office, but Snape, Dumbledore, and McGonagall wouldn’t let me help. I felt so bloody helpless because I knew I _could_ do something, but nobody would let me. But, Ginny…” She crossed and sat beside her, the girl who was like her little sister at this point, someone she’d watched grow up… And Eli just smiled and squeezed her hands. “You are _not_ helpless, okay? I’ve seen you fight. In the Department of Mysteries, you _proved_ you’re not just some useless bystander in all this. You’ve done things, you’ve protected people and fought Death Eaters.”

“Once,” Ginny argued back. “And I blew up the _entire_ Hall of Prophecies!”

Eli grinned at her, feeling a bit proud. “Which was some incredible magic, mind you. You’re wicked strong.”

“I’m still trapped at school until I’m seventeen,” she sighed, still not appeased. “And even then, I don’t know if mum would even let me join the Order of the Phoenix, I dunno if I’ll get to do anything.”

“Your mum means well,” she began slowly, choosing her words rather delicately. “She wants to protect you. But once you’re seventeen she can’t just stop you. Anyway…” Eli leant into the back of the sofa and shrugged faintly. “I have a feeling Hogwarts will see more action before this war ends. That’s just the nature of the place.”

That made Ginny’s eyes glitter with a sort of determination, and Eli suddenly understood exactly what George had seen in her, that time at Grimmauld Place when she’d volunteered for a dangerous mission without a second thought. Feeling useless could make a person do all sorts of things.

“Just…be careful, please,” Eli urged her belatedly. “My dad almost died at the Ministry. Sirius _did_ die. I don’t want you to be the next one.”

Coming down to earth a bit, Ginny tightened her fingers around Eli’s and nodded. “I won’t be.”

Eli could only hope.

\--

The next morning, Eli awoke early and headed downstairs, immersing herself alongside Mrs. Weasley in Christmas preparations. They had to handle food, presents, decorations, lodgings… Eli had no clue how Mrs. Weasley had intended to handle it herself. Ginny helped a bit, but mostly she was tasked with keeping the twins out of the way when they arrived, which was a difficult job in and of itself.

By midafternoon, the house was bustling with activity. Bill and Fleur were staying in the house too, and Fleur alone was a presence big enough to fill the whole of the Burrow. Harry and Ron arrived from school, Ron having stayed behind to travel home with Harry, and Tonks showed up around noon too. She eagerly helped Mrs. Weasley, taking some of the strain off both her and Eli, though it was still rather a lot. But in the late afternoon, when the sun was nearly setting, finally Remus arrived, and Eli abandoned her duties to rush out front and greet him, all but flinging herself into his arms.

He laughed and embraced her back. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized, looking chagrinned. “I hope I haven’t missed out on anything.”

“You’re just fine, dad,” Eli told him reassuringly. Stepping back, she got a good look at him even in the fading light, and frowned as she took in his appearance. “You’ve lost weight,” she sighed. “Have you been keeping up with your potions? I’ve been sending them well in advance, so I hope they’ve not been brewed incorrectly or anything, I don’t w-”

Remus held up a hand and stayed her concerns. “That’s all been fine, Eli,” he assured her gently. “I’m afraid this just…is the reality of my situation.”

She felt a strike of bitter resentment race through her chest, for Fenrir Greyback, for the creature—which he was, truly, embracing a much Darker side of himself—who had done this to her father. “Well, you should come in and eat something, then,” Eli insisted, trying for something lighter. “And later on I’ll see if I can’t throw something together to help you feel a bit better.”

Something like shame crawled over his face. “That’s not your job, you’ve got enough to worry about without putting extra work on your plate.”

“And yet,” she demurred, “I’m going to help you anyway.” Eli wrapped her arm around his and led him into the house, watching a little bit of the weariness smooth from his face as the others greeted him, as Tonks managed to extract a quick but tight embrace from him, and felt confident enough to leave him be, at least for a little while. Tonks would look after him.

Eli snuck upstairs to where Sirius’s— _her_ Potion-making kit was set up in her room, on a low flame and bubbling lightly. She had, in what little free time her life allowed, been attempting to use her potion-writing skills to adjust the Wolfsbane Potion, trying to create a newer, improved version that would hopefully perform better, and work towards abating some of the other symptoms, things like the exhaustion, the weight loss, the things that came between full moons. So far, though, she’d had no luck. A quick look at the potion in her cauldron told her this one wasn’t a success either, so she evanesced it and set about starting again.

That was where George found her, just before dinner. “Now see, I was hoping you were taking a nap,” he laughed, when he took in her position sprawled on the floor among pages and pages of notes. “Bit stupid of me, wasn’t it?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I was _so_ hoping to make some headway,” she sighed, dipping her quill into a rather empty inkwell and scratching off a line she’d just written. “But I’ve had rubbish luck.”

“It’s supposed to be such a finicky potion, though, isn’t it?” George crossed and sat down beside her, peering at the half-filled cauldron. “That’s why nobody’s managed to change it since that bloke discovered it.”

“Shouldn’t stop me,” Eli muttered. She tapped her wand against her lip in thought, glancing between the bubbling potion and the notes just to her right. “I’ve been mucking with the aconite, see, it’s so touchy but if I could get it to take in moonlight like the valerian root, I might be able to strengthen it, drop the dosage days a bit… But it just won’t do it, no matter what I try…”

George squeezed her shoulder. “Y’know, Remus isn’t going to be disappointed if you can’t fix it, love. He’s got no idea you’re even trying, does he?”

“I just…” Eli rubbed at her tired eyes and finally looked up at him, really looked, and confessed, “I really think I can do this, George. I swear I can. I think I’m really close, I can feel it, I had a batch that nearly stabilized earlier but something just went off, and if I can figure this out… I could change my dad’s life, change _all_ werewolves’ lives.” _And show Umbridge what for._

“I believe in you,” he told her gently. “But I also think you ought to give yourself a break, that’s all. You’ll get it. Just…” George grinned and brushed her hair from her face. “Maybe not on two hours’ sleep.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What, do people sleep more than two hours a night?”

That made George laugh and wrap his arms around her. “You’re ridiculous, Eli.”

“Mmh.” Eli smirked at him. “But you love me.”

“’Course I do.” George kissed her quickly, once on the lips and then on the forehead. “Come on, mum’s going to lose her head if you don’t show up for dinner. You can keep working afterwards, all right?”

She sighed and nodded. “Fine. But I’m not giving up.”

George smirked as he rose to his feet and offered her a hand. “You wouldn’t be yourself, otherwise.”

The next couple days passed easily, if fruitlessly for Eli. She felt rather bad destroying aconite each time she failed at her experiments, so she’d begun researching how to grow it herself, despite it being one of the more difficult and rare plants in the wizarding world. Not to mention the moonstone, god, she was beginning to feel rather awful about all the lost moonstone as well. Yet she still wasn’t going to give up. Eli swore she’d been given this talent for a reason—and since it didn’t help her as much in her career as a Healer, this had to be why.

Christmas Eve, George finally convinced her to abandon her pursuits for the holiday, so she joined everyone round the fire in the living room after dinner instead of retreating to her room, cringing to Celestina Warbeck’s rather frightful singing—though no one dared tell Mrs. Weasley that—and watching everyone’s interactions cautiously.

“Wotcher, Eli,” Tonks greeted brightly, if somewhat uncertainly, dropping into the seat beside her. “I haven’t run into you in a while. You getting on okay up there with Madame Pomfrey?”

Eli smiled and bobbed her head. “It’s been great, actually. Well, beyond that cursed necklace, but you know, I don’t think it’d be Hogwarts nowadays without a bit of excitement.” She had the sense Tonks wanted to ask her something, so she lowered her voice a touch and asked, “How’ve you been? Must be lonely, down in the village all the time.”

“Ah, it’s fine,” Tonks denied, waving a hand. But as she spoke, her usually vibrant hair turned just a bit dull.

“Is…” Eli hesitated, then pressed on, determined. “Is something the matter, Tonks?”

Involuntarily, her eyes flicked over to where Remus had taken up residence in an armchair by the fire, staring into its depths thoughtfully. “I’m all right, Eli. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet her curiosity—and bullheadedness—just wouldn’t take a backseat. So Eli rose to her feet, and made a bit of a show as she announced, “I’m going outside for a little air. Be right back.” She took one step, then two, towards the back door, and then-

“I’ll come too.”

Eli bit back a triumphant grin. So there _was_ something going on.

The two stepped outside together, and Eli led Tonks just far enough that they’d be out of earshot. “So, what’s going on?” she asked curiously. They weren’t friends, exactly, more like acquaintances, but Eli felt a certain kinship with her nonetheless.

Tonks shifted uncomfortably. “Has—has Remus… I mean… Been writing to you a lot, recently?”

“He’s been spying for Dumbledore,” Eli sighed, twisting a lock of her hair. “Off with the werewolves. So no, not much. Why?”

She shrugged faintly. “Just wondered, that’s all.”

Eli crossed her arms and stared Tonks down. “You know, I’m not blind. Or daft. I’ve seen how you two look at each other.”

That made Tonks wince and avert her gaze. “It’s not—that isn’t-”

“He can be a bit of an idiot, can’t he?” Eli closed her eyes for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “I know this isn’t… a very…traditional situation, not even close. So it’s not going to be very cut and dry, how to act about all of it. And that’s fine.” One corner of her mouth lifted. “You know we only found each other in my fifth year, right? And didn’t confirm anything until quite a bit later. We aren’t…” She struggled to find the words for a moment. “He’s my dad, and I love him, but I didn’t grow up with him—I don’t have the same hang-ups that I might have otherwise. But…I do worry about him. I’m not ever going to be around him enough to really…look after him properly. And I think…” Eli opened her eyes, glanced over to see Tonks watching her hopefully. “I think it’d be good for him, to have somebody else, someone who _can_ be there, who knows his secrets and still cares for him.”

Tonks nodded slowly, and wrung her hands, staring at the ground like it would reply instead. “And…what about…your mother? Is he still…I mean…”

“Not like that, I don’t think,” Eli explained quietly. “I’m not gonna lie and say he doesn’t have…something lingering. But that was so long ago, and even though I think part of him will probably always care for her… That doesn’t mean he can’t have something else in his life. Besides…” She turned and reached out, squeezing Tonks’s shoulder encouragingly. “I think you’d be good for him.”

Her hair turned a bright shade of bubblegum pink at that. “Thanks, Eli. That means a lot.”

They headed back inside together, coming in right as Harry was expressing his worries about Malfoy to Mr. Weasley and Remus. Eli broke from Tonks and approached, frustration blooming. She’d told him to _wait_ , and now he was doing this?

“Eli, there you are.” Remus frowned up at her. “Did you hear any of this? The Unbreakable Vow, that conversation?”

“No, I missed it,” she admitted, giving Harry a sidelong look. “I have been keeping track, though, but so far there hasn’t been anything outward, not from Malfoy or Snape, to be honest. I have…” Eli swallowed hard. “I have seen Snape looking out for him, moreso than usual. Not at all how he acted when I was a student.”

Remus’s mouth thinned to a severe line. “Regardless, the notion is just…” He shook his head. “Voldemort, choosing Draco Malfoy for a mission?”

“I know it sounds mad,” Harry interjected quickly. “But I know what I heard.”

Mr. Weasley still looked troubled. “Even so… Has it occurred to you, Harry, that Snape could have been simply pretending to-”

“Pretending to offer help, yeah, I thought about that,” he insisted. “But how do we know?”

Tonks edged closer, standing beside Eli a bit warily. “Perhaps Harry’s right,” she suggested, earning a grateful look from him. “If he really did make an Unbreakable Vow, after all…”

But Remus merely sighed and shook his head. “It all comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore’s judgment. He trusts Snape. Therefore, I do. It’s simply not our business to know every detail of his plans.”

Harry looked more agitated, though. “But Dumbledore’s been wrong before, he can make mistakes. He said so himself. What if this is one of those times?”

Eli felt the back of her neck prickle as darkness settled over her father’s face. It would be…the full moon that night, she knew that, she’d had the dates memorized for ages… Moonrise wasn’t until very late, though, and with his potion he’d be okay, but regardless… It affected him. Perhaps the others didn’t notice, but she did.

“You’re blinded by hatred,” Remus told Harry, a bit unkindly.

Harry bristled. “I’m not!”

“You are!” Remus’s whole body tensed as he snapped the words, making even Harry sit back from him. “People are disappearing, Harry. Daily! We can only put our trust in a handful of people—if we start fighting amongst ourselves, we’re doomed. You have inherited the prejudices of your father and godfather, and I understand that, but this is-”

“Dad.” Eli cut him off, not too harshly but not quite gently, either. “Let it be, please?”

Remus gave her a look that threatened a reprimand, but the moment was broken as Mr. Weasley leapt to his feet and asked, rather loudly, “Who wants eggnog?”

Eli held her father’s gaze, determined, so he broke it instead as he rose from the armchair and strode outside, leaving his coat draped over the arm. Tonks moved to follow him, but Eli caught her arm and shook her head. “Just…let me talk to him. It’s the full moon tonight, he’s not…exactly himself, potion or not.” With that she grabbed his coat and headed outside after him, fearless of whatever reaction he might have.

Remus was standing near the edge of the wheat field, posture rigid as he stared out across the stalks. He didn’t acknowledge her as she approached, but the faint tilt of his head let her know he was aware.

“Here,” Eli murmured, stepping to his side and holding out his coat. “Thought you might want this.”

He accepted it with a faint nod.

“He means well, you know,” she began slowly. “Harry. He’s just…overzealous. I told him to wait and find out more before he posed his theory to everyone like that, not to just go…flying into it.” Eli curled her fingers in tightly for a moment, considering, before she looped her arm around his, pleased when he didn’t pull away. “I’d ask how you’re holding up, but…”

Remus’s shoulders fell. “I shouldn’t have reacted so strongly.”

“Who could blame you, though?” Eli squeezed harder on his arm. “He’ll be fine, anyway. I’ll keep helping him after the holidays, and it’s not as though he isn’t aware of the situation… Tonight is…”

“That’s no excuse,” he snapped, tumbling back into that burning anger in a split second.

But Eli stilled her reaction, the instinct to lash out in return. “It’s been a while since you’ve had this hard of a time,” was all she told him. It was true—she hadn’t seen him be this…on edge before the full moon in a very long time. It had been better, recently, from what she’d understood and seen. So why was he so worked up now?

He merely turned away, taking several steps out of her grasp as he let out a rough sigh. In that moment, Eli missed Sirius fiercely—he would’ve known how to handle this, what to do or say to pull Remus back from this mental space.

But Sirius was gone. Eli regretted, more than anything, not learning more when she could, but god, she’d never thought something like _that_ would happen. And now… Now there was nothing to do but handle it herself. So she followed her father, refused to back down, and instead wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his shoulder.

And asked something she’d never thought to ask before. “Let me come with you.”

Remus tensed sharply. “No.”

“I want to help-”

“You already _do_ help,” he insisted, his tone firm. “But you are not going to witness that. Merlin, when James and Sirius would run with me, I’d never let them see the transformation… Even safe with the potion I will not put you in that position, Eli.”

She leaned back and narrowed her eyes at him. “Why not? You’re clearly suffering, and I’d be entirely safe—then you wouldn’t have to handle it alone, and-”

He tore free of her, dropping his coat in the sudden movement. “No! Absolutely not!”

Anger again. Eli wrapped her arms around herself, searching for an answer. She didn’t want to keep agitating him, making things worse, but at the same time her nature wasn’t to just give up. “Dad…hear me out, please,” she begged, following him just a step. “Do you remember…the night Mr. Weasley was attacked, when I told you about the nursery fire and how afraid I was about losing control, about hurting someone else?”

Remus hesitated a moment before nodding, reluctant.

“I know it isn’t nearly the same thing, but you and I… We do share a certain…understanding of what it’s like to feel out of control, to feel dangerous to the people around you.” Eli swallowed and clutched her shirt, fingers nearly trembling. She was risking his ire again, and yet she couldn’t stop herself. “You helped me… And I want to do the same for you. I’m not an Animagus, I can’t do the same things James and Sirius did… But I could at least offer some kind of support so you don’t have to do this alone.”

In the millisecond before he whipped around to face away from her again, Eli swore she saw his expression crumple. “I can’t let you,” Remus told her softly.

“Why not?” Eli pressed, undeterred.

“I just…I can’t, Eli.”

She grabbed his coat from the ground as she walked closer again. “You won’t even give me a reason-”

“Because I can’t bear you seeing me like that!” Remus spun to look at her again, face white as a sheet, hands clenched at his sides. “You are one of the few people left who doesn’t see me as the monster I am! I… I don’t want to lose that.” His voice cracked and he closed his eyes, his jaw clenched tight in distress.

Eli felt like her heart was breaking deep inside her chest. “You aren’t a monster,” she told him quietly, shaking her head. “None of this makes you a monster. And being able to help, to do anything to ease your transformations… I want to do everything I can, dad, and just brewing that potion… I don’t think that’s all I could be doing, I really don’t.” His coat slipped from her fingers as she crossed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his middle again—but this time he embraced her in return, sighing wearily. “Just—think about it, please? That’s all I’ll ask for now.”

“All right,” he finally conceded, his voice quiet. “I’ll consider it.”

She leaned back enough to smile at him, glad when she earned a small one in reply. “Thank you.” Eli kept one arm around his back as she turned, looking up at the dark, moonless night. “It’s… Two, three hours, right? Do you have everything set up?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’ve got it ready. I just n-”

But he cut himself off.

Eli frowned up at him, baffled. Something dark and harsh was coming over his face. “Dad? What’s going on?”

“There’s—someone out there,” he breathed. “One, maybe two…”

Of course… His senses were heightened, this close to the full moon. Eli lifted onto her toes and peered out into the field, but she was shorter than him—more her mother’s height than anything else—and couldn’t see over the stalks. “Is it… Are we in trouble?”

“I’m not sure.” Remus’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “But I-”

In the field, fire leapt up, sudden and bright in the darkness. Behind the roar of the flames, Eli could hear a high-pitched cackle, a familiar sound—Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Death Eaters,” she whispered, fear curling down her spine.

Remus drew his wand and took a step forward. “Get back to the house, Eli. Now.”

She gritted her teeth. So they were back to this again? “Like hell,” she told him fiercely, and pulled her own wand from the inner pocket of her own coat. “You know damn well I’m not leaving you.”

Thankfully he didn’t argue anymore—merely took off running towards the front of the house, Eli tearing after him as fast as she could, feet slipping in the damp grass. They reached the door in time to see fire come streaking out from the field, landing hard on the ground and spreading fast. In moments the Burrow was encircled by flames.

Eli reared back, shocked as the fire licked closer. Yet at the same time, something inside her chest glowed with life, encouraged by the flames. She took a step closer, wand near her side, uncertain if she ought to follow that strange feeling or push it away.

Then the fire lifted, curling dangerously as it reared back almost as if to strike at the Burrow, and Eli made her decision. She leapt backwards and lifted her wand, joining Remus in attempting to control the magical fire. It fought back like a living creature, writhing and spitting sparks despite their efforts. Eli stepped sideways, dodging a tail of fire, and as she moved, she felt something dark and cold whisper down her back.

She spun, wand raised in a trembling hand, to see Bellatrix Lestrange standing behind her, grinning maniacally. “Miss me?” she laughed, more of a cackle than anything else.

Eli took an unsteady step backwards. Her mind was utterly blank. This was the woman who had killed Sirius, who tortured Neville Longbottom’s parents… She was wicked and completely mad and less than a _meter_ away.

Then, movement to her right. Bellatrix tipped her head and grinned when she spotted Harry racing out of the house, wand drawn, and wiggled her fingers at Eli before sprinting out through the fire.

“Harry, no!” Eli shouted as he ran past her, making a grab for him and missing.

Seconds later, in a break Remus fought through the fire, Ginny tore out after Harry, vanishing into the field immediately, her mother screaming after her in panic.

Eli saw Tonks come out to help Remus, even as she lowered her wand. This fire…there was no simply fighting it. Bellatrix would’ve done _something_ to it, something to make it act this unnaturally, to fight back this way, perhaps imbued it with Dark Magic or otherwise… But it was still _fire_. And Eli had fire in her veins, she knew that.

So, with her wand at her side, she stepped towards the fire.

_Fire will not burn me, fire will not burn me,_ she told herself over and over, every step she took. When her muggle family had forced her to wear flame-retardant gloves, it hadn’t been to protect _her_ … It had been to keep the fire inside. She’d never been burned, never suffered from the fire unleashed by her own magic. This might not be her fire, she hadn’t created it, and yet…it was still magical fire all the same.

“Eli! Stop, don’t do this!” Remus yelled behind her.

But she sucked in a deep breath-

And stepped through the fire.

The moment her feet touched the other side, Eli shook herself and took off running, panting hard as she tried to follow the broken path towards Harry and Ginny. It was darker out here, away from the fire, but she wasn’t going back now.

Eli heard something snap behind her and whirled, bringing her wand to bear as a dark figure crept up, slow, animal-like, as if she were its prey.

When Fenrir Greyback stepped out of the shadows, she thought her heart might stop.

“Well,” he growled lowly, grinning. A wave of nausea swept through her when he sniffed the air, head tilted sideways—his senses would be heightened as well. And unlike her father…he didn’t have a drop of Wolfsbane in his system, by design. He _liked_ being a werewolf, embraced it, turned himself into a monster once a month because he enjoyed it. Remus had told her as much. Greyback considered it his personal mission to turn as many people as possible.

And although it wasn’t moonrise yet… If he bit her…

Eli squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, disguising her fear. She shot a spell at him, trying to knock him back—but he raised his wand with unnatural speed and deflected it, smirking as he did so.

“What’s this I smell on you, little girl?” he asked, taking another step closer, and another.

She clenched her hand down on her wand. Could he…actually smell her mixed heritage? If so, how far did that run? Could he smell not only her lycanthropic blood but _who_ it came from? That would paint an enormous red target right on her face. “Stay away from me,” Eli snarled, pointing her wand at him again.

Greyback just kept advancing on her. “You aren’t a werewolf,” he mused, his head tilting further. “Not…fully… But what is that…” A savage grin curled his already inhuman face. “Oh. Isn’t that…perfect. He’s reproduced.”

Her stomach rolled over. Oh god… He could actually smell that… “Yeah, it is perfect,” she ground out, her chest heaving as she began to nearly hyperventilate. “For me. You should be fucking afraid.”

That made him laugh, a cold, harsh sound. “Is that so? And why’s that, little girl?”

Eli felt white-hot rage leap up in her chest at the demeaning, revolting title. “Because it means I’ve got a reason to hate you. And that makes me dangerous.” She adjusted her grip on her wand, readying herself for the curse she knew was coming—but it never came.

Instead Greyback leapt at her, all snarling and fangs, and Eli staggered away, not expecting the physical attack. She narrowly avoided a swipe of his—were those claws!? How the hell was he so…so _inhuman_ when her father was the exact opposite? Greyback was a monster, through and through, exactly the sort of creature she could imagine turning a four-year-old boy into a werewolf, just to spite his father.

She ducked and dodged away, firing another spell at him, which he deflected too. He was just…so _fast_ with the full moon impending. Eli couldn’t even fathom how bad it would be if the moon rose, if he transformed… No! She would _not_ let that happen, no goddamned way!

Leaping out of his way, she dropped to the ground and just barely skirted his next lunge, rolling to her feet with fire curling from her left hand. When Greyback stood, eyes narrowing at the unexpected appearance of the flames, Eli shoved her wand away and let her right hand bloom with fire as well, facing the werewolf with shadows flickering on her face. “Back off,” she demanded harshly.

Greyback sniffed the air. “You got a bite,” he told her, grinning, still not completely unbalanced. “Just like your daddy.”

Summoning all her focus, aware for maybe the first time this wasn’t just some crazy fire ability—it was wandless magic, through and through—Eli lashed out with her right hand, sending fire scorching at Greyback. He snarled and reared away, dodging, so she did it again, feeling the drain on her energy but absolutely refusing to back down.

“Eli!”

Greyback’s head lifted.

She choked on a breath as she realized Remus was out here somewhere, her father had come racing out after her _again_ … But if he met Greyback…

Eli growled, putting everything she had into her next attack and startling him into leaping away. For a moment she thought he might run, actually dared think she’d beaten him—but then, with a rough snarling sound unlike anything she’d ever heard before, Greyback launched himself right onto her. She shrieked as they tumbled, kicking out in a desperate attempt to free herself, but he was just so much bigger and stronger than her, too much to fight.

She grunted as he pinned her down flat, claws digging into her wrists as he grinned at her, his foul breath washing over her face.

“Too bad,” Greyback laughed, smirking. “I was enjoying our little game.”

Eli fought against bile rising in the back of her throat. If he waited just a bit longer… Oh god, she wasn’t even so worried about herself as she was frantic over how her father would feel, to know she’d been turned… Even partially… It had always been such a relief to him she’d inherited none of his lycanthropic traits, not even a trace of it, and if Greyback himself did it to her…

She closed her eyes, drawing every ounce of herself down to her center. No. _No_.

“Poor little girl,” Greyback sneered, as he shifted to his knees. “All alone out here… Daddy can’t save you now…”

Eli’s eyes snapped open. “I don’t need anyone to save me,” she told him fiercely.

Then she exploded with fire.

Greyback yelled in pain as he was flung off her with the force of the blast, sent flying into the wheat with his open-chest shirt on fire, streaking flames into the field. Moments later, a black cloud streaked into the sky—and Greyback fled.

Eli shakily pushed herself up into a sitting position, her head spinning. Her whole body ached like she’d just been flung down a mountain, but she’d done it—she’d beaten Greyback, despite it being a full moon, despite his physical advantage over her. She wanted to go find the others, to yell for her dad, just…to let everyone know she was okay. But her voice and strength were just failing her.

Thankfully, moments later Remus practically staggered into the clearing, his face pale and wand out. He breathed her name and fell to his knees beside her, gripping her shoulders fiercely. “What happened?” he demanded, frantic. “Are you all right?”

She looked up in surprise as more people filled the area—Tonks and Mr. Weasley, with Harry and Ginny trailing them anxiously. “I—I’m okay. It was…” Eli swallowed and averted her gaze. “Greyback.”

Mr. Weasley’s eyes shot wide. “That’s who else was here? Fenrir Greyback?”

Eli nodded slowly. She could feel Remus’s gaze on her, the panic and fear radiating off him, but she didn’t look at him. She didn’t have the strength to face him yet.

Then Tonks stepped forward, her mouth falling open. “Remus… Her shoulder…”

She blinked, confused. Her shoulder? Slowly, Eli looked down, following Tonks’s gaze to her left shoulder.

Blood was slowly soaking through her shirt and coat, the pale tan fabric of the coat turning a bright red even in the darkness. “I…didn’t notice,” she whispered, too shocked to really react. Had he bitten her and she didn’t even feel it? Or was it a simple scratch? It was impossible to tell from here, she’d need to get the coat and shirt off, clean the wound, examine it and try to get a feel for what had happened… And go from there…

Her Healer’s instincts kicked in before the fear, but when that caught up, she looked up at Remus sharply, her breath coming in short gasps. Her dad’s face was chalky-white, sheer horror shining in his eyes as he stared between her and the wound on her shoulder.

The moment was broken by a dark cloud flying into the air nearby—Bellatrix leaving, she assumed.

Greyback’s shadowy form joined hers midair, and the two Death Eaters banked sideways, streaming darkness as they headed straight for the Burrow. Eli watched in absolute dread as they impacted on the house, exploding one wall outward and setting the wooden structure aflame.

“Molly!” Mr. Weasley gasped, taking off at a dead sprint with Ginny and Harry at his heels.

Tonks grabbed Remus’s shoulder. “Remus, do you have her?” she asked. “I’ve got to go help, but I’ll send George to find you if I get a chance, all right?”

He nodded, and she raced off after the others with a sad backwards look at Eli. But she understood. The Burrow was on _fire_ , the twins and Mrs. Weasley had still been inside… Even though she was sure they were okay, it was still horrifying to see their house burning, still an urgent situation to save what they could from inside…

But her shoulder…

Remus’s arms came around her as he pulled her into his chest, tight as he dared, resting his chin against her uninjured shoulder.

Eli ducked her head into his chest and fought back a sudden, dry sob. Her body heaved with the force of keeping it in, and Remus held her tighter, not speaking—after all, what could he say? For all they knew, in that moment, she might turn into a fully-fledged werewolf in just a couple hours, without a drop of Wolfsbane in her system. There was nothing to say that would make it better.

By the time Remus got her back to the house, the others had mostly extinguished the fire, both outside and on the house itself. But it was in no way a good place to do any sort of triage, she could see that just from the exterior.

George rushed up immediately, catching her under the arms when Remus faltered. “What the hell happened?” he demanded, eyes wide with panic.

“I fought Greyback,” Eli whispered. “And he…” She glanced sideways at her father, who was breathing hard, eyes too dark—moonrise was coming. “I don’t know if he bit me or clawed me or if it was something else, but… It’s nearly moonrise and I…” _I could transform._

Mr. Weasley looked between her and Remus anxiously. “There isn’t much time left.”

“Remus…” Tonks touched his shoulder lightly. “You need to get out of here, we can look after Eli…”

“No, you can’t,” he murmured, shaking his head. “If he bit her, this close to the full moon, then he…” Remus swallowed tightly. “She could transform. You can’t risk that, we all know it. I’ve had my potion, but Eli hasn’t had a chance.” He reached out and pulled her into his side, and though she could feel him trembling, his voice was steady. “She won’t be in any danger with me.”

Mrs. Weasley stepped forward with such genuine concern on her face it made Eli nearly well up with tears. “Where will you go?”

He set his jaw. “My cottage. It’s remote, and I have a protected room as well.”

A protected room. In case she transformed and needed to be…contained overnight. The reality was beginning to set in, that she might very well have altered her entire life in that one, single battle.

George rushed forward and embraced her tightly, making her wound ache—but she didn’t care. Eli just clung to him, fighting a shudder, absolutely terrified now. If she’d had the option to take Wolfsbane, if she could’ve done anything against this… But she was completely helpless here.

“I love you,” he whispered, leaning back and kissing her forehead softly.

Eli smiled through a wave of tears. “I love you too.” She stepped back then, unsteady on her feet now, and took her father’s arm.

The world spun in front of her as he Disapparated, and seconds later she was staggering towards a worn brown couch, her breath coming unsteadily as she sank onto the soft cushions. Her Healer’s bag was in an extended pocket, so she pulled it out before yanking her coat off and tossing it aside.

“Eli…”

“I have to clean it,” she insisted, though her fingers trembled as she pulled a vial from her bag. Remus settled beside her as she worked, dabbing cotton pads soaked in a cleaning potion on the wound, even though it made her wince and hiss in pain.

He sighed wearily. “We don’t have much time left. And there isn’t anything to be done if it was a bite, you know that.”

Eli nodded once, a bit curtly, but she was still working on cleaning, while a length of gauze unspooled from her bag on its own. “I know,” she told him shortly. “But I still have to make sure it doesn’t get infected, no matter what it is.” As she spoke, she took a small knife and cut a panel of her shirt out, trying to see better in the short amount of time she had. Her emotions were shutting down, giving way to the steely Healer’s mentality she’d developed.

From that perspective, looking down at the sluggishly-clotting wound, it didn’t _look_ like a bite. She couldn’t make out teeth, fangs, nothing recognizable… Yet in the fight anything could’ve happened. If it were just a claw, then she’d be fine—she shouldn’t even have any lingering symptoms. But if he’d gotten his teeth into her…

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she pressed a piece of gauze against the wound. She’d suffer symptoms until the wound healed no matter what, if it had truly been caused by Greyback and not a stray branch or bramble catching. The night would still be hard.

Once she had it taped up, she looked up at her father despondently and asked, “So…where do we go?”

Remus took her arm and led her through the cottage—a modest place, she noted dimly, with one bedroom and a single bathroom, hardly anything personal… Just a place to sleep, really. And at the back…was the room. The walls were paneled in sheets of metal, with a heavy door likely set with a magical timer, to lock and unlock around the lunar cycle. That way he could do it all himself, without someone outside to lock it behind him.

Eli could see scratches and dents all around the room, particularly on the door, but she walked in all the same, keeping her head high. She wouldn’t falter. Whatever came, if she turned or not, she would stay strong. She _had_ to.

When Remus walked in behind her and closed the door softly, Eli raised an eyebrow at him. “Wouldn’t it be dangerous for you?”

“No. A werewolf only attacks humans—and prey animals.” He gestured faintly at her. “I would be…quite a bit larger than you, physically. I’ll be perfectly fine, Eli. And…” Remus squeezed her good shoulder. “If you don’t transform, you’ll still have a rough night. But with my potion, you won’t be in any danger from me, I promise you.”

Eli met his gaze steadily. “I’m not afraid of you.”

So they sat there, Remus by the door and Eli across the room, just in case she did transform—it would give him a moment to get his wits about him before she had a chance to potentially attack, in her confusion—until the moon crept over the horizon.

Eli _felt_ it, sensed the presence without even seeing it. She could see Remus’s pupils dilate, his eyes going dark before they rolled back in his head. Pain radiated out from her wound, burning like poison through her veins, and she cried out at the sudden burst of agony, rolling to her knees and pressing her forehead to the cool metal floor. “Don’t change, don’t change, don’t change,” she panted, begged, over and over again, trying to hold onto her own humanity. It felt like that agonizing poison was dragging it away in tiny, shredded fragments.

Darkness swirled in her vision, and the last thing Eli felt before she fell unconscious was something soft and warm pressing into her side.


	21. The Passage of Time, Marked by Failures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for that last cliffhanger!!! I don't usually like to have such harsh cliffhangers but that just worked. So I'm very sorry to make you suffer! Here's the next chapter - and the resolution - for you all. I love you!

Eli awoke with a headache throbbing behind her temples, a ringing in her ears slowly fading away. It took her a few minutes to feel actually capable of opening her eyes, but when she did, daylight blinded her and she had to close them again until her head stopped pounding so hard.

Finally, though, she was able to open her eyes and sit up. She was lying in an unfamiliar bed, still dressed in her cut up shirt and trousers from the day before, though her shoes had been removed, at least. From what she knew, the morning after a transformation was supposed to feel…awful, as though your whole body had been ripped apart and pieced back together. Yet she just didn’t feel that way. Her shoulder ached, and her head was rather bad, but on the whole it just…wasn’t how it ought to feel.

Had she not turned?

Weary and a bit dizzy, Eli got out of the bed and shuffled into the hallway, searching mostly for her Healer’s kit—she had a potion for headaches in there. Since the cottage was so small it was easy to find her way to the drawing room, where she’d left it, though passing the protected room made a shudder pass through her. She shook the feeling off and stepped into the drawing room to find her father asleep on the couch, eyes underscored by bruises and skin a bit too pallid, but he was breathing. For the moment that was enough.

Eli grabbed her bag and took it into the kitchen, where she perched on the edge of the counter and sorted through it, removing everything she’d need. Brightening Elixir for both of them, plus potions for headaches, body pains, maybe exhaustion… Usually she sent everything over for him the morning after the full moon, but this time she was here. It made the whole thing easier, really.

A groan from the sofa announced Remus was waking up, so Eli slid off the countertop and crossed the room, a train of potions following her as she continued searching through her bag. While her dad slowly worked himself into a sitting position, she sat in the armchair beside the sofa and laid out her small army of potions, measuring the last couple and dividing them up between the two of them, watching sharp-eyed to ensure she didn’t dole out the wrong potion.

“You’re awake,” Remus murmured, giving her a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

Eli shrugged faintly. “I’m all right… I don’t feel as though a train ran me over, so I…” She swallowed hard, her throat dry and scratchy. “Did I…transform?”

He reached over and squeezed her knee tightly. “No, love. You were feverish through the night, but that was only a side-effect of the wound. He…he must have just scratched you, rather than bitten you.”

She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin atop them. It was strange, to come out the other end this way—after the panic, the fear, that awful certainty that had gripped her when she passed out that she was transforming… Eli didn’t quite know how to feel. Relieved, naturally, but she also was struck by her heightened understanding of what lycanthropes went through. Greyback… He was some kind of mad to revel in the transformation, in letting the wolf out, so to speak. If it hurt that badly to simply go through a full moon injured by a werewolf’s claw, then a full transformation must be agony, pure and simple. While she understood a stigma against a creature like Greyback, someone who delighted in harming others, in turning whoever he could get his jaws into—but those who _suffered_ lycanthropy like her father, like countless others who were forced onto the Werewolf Register and only wanted to live normal lives… They didn’t deserve it. Lycanthropy was a curse. Manageable, predictable, but a curse all the same, and if a person could be declared of sound mind…

Ideas spun through her head like bursts of starlight. Not solid yet, just glimmers of inspiration, but if she took the time to sort through it later…

“Are you…all right?” Remus asked her quietly.

Eli nodded. “I’m okay, really, dad. Are you? I can’t…” She checked the automatic reply. “I suppose I can sort of imagine it now… Honestly, I don’t think I’d be the slightest bit pulled together after that, Wolfsbane or not.”

A reluctant smile curled his lips up. “I’ve had time to adjust to it, years of transformations… They’re so much worse without the potion, after experiencing those, this is quite a relief, honestly.”

She had _never_ been so grateful for her ability with potions.

Once they’d both taken their set of healing potions, Eli got to her feet and began to pace, while Remus merely rested and watched her. “I want to do something about this,” she announced, stalking towards the kitchen and back. “It’s completely unfair, not to mention inhumane, to keep that register intact as it is currently. It’s a legal, Ministry-approved method of promoting bias and ruining perfectly good wizards’ lives.”

He frowned at her, shaking his head. “Eli…plenty of us have tried, but it’s no use, I’m afraid. Newt Scamander himself proposed the register, originally as a method to help werewolves navigate their conditions, but since then it’s been twisted and warped into something else entirely. But with his name on it… No one will turn against it.”

But that only served to fuel her fire. “So Mr. Scamander only wanted to help—if that’s the case even today, he must be horrified by what it was turned into.”

“I would assume so, but how would that help anything, Eli?” Remus crossed his arms and gave her a level stare. “I understand what you’re trying to do, and it’s a noble cause, but… With the state of our world nowadays, there isn’t any chance of altering it.”

Eli narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s just—so defeatist. I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to concede that easily. After all…” She tugged at the ragged hole in her shirt. “I have a unique viewpoint on the matter, something I’ve never heard of before. Being attacked but not turned, only suffering due to the full moon coinciding with the attack… The chances of that situation having occurred before are very slim. Right?”

“I—well yes, but even so-”

“ _And_ ,” she continued fiercely, barreling right on, “I happen to know Mr. Scamander’s grandson, Rolf. I was at school with him. If I could speak with Mr. Scamander, explain the situation more, then perhaps a new sort of legislation could be worked out…” Eli had a flash of the future, of an ideal future in which Wolfsbane could be made available to lycanthropes on the register, and safe rooms to transform in, just like her father’s. It was a distant, challenging goal…and yet she had scarcely wanted anything more.

Remus’s gaze turned softer as he regarded her, his countenance seeming to brighten before her eyes. “You are so very passionate, Eli,” he murmured. “Just like your mother. I admit…I haven’t much faith in seeing changes come about, not on this scale, but…” He grinned faintly. “If anyone could, I suppose it would be you. After all, the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered in my lifetime. The wizarding world is still adjusting.”

That moment, just that little drop of faith in her, made Eli feel as though she could take on the entire Ministry. But first… “Right now I ought to let the others know what’s going on,” she admitted, dragging a hand through her tangled blonde curls. “I can’t believe Death Eaters showed up at the Burrow… Mrs. Weasley will be so devastated about the house…”

“I think she’ll be happier knowing you’re all right,” he pointed out. “Why don’t you go on back? I’ve still got some recuperating to do so I’ll stop by later, but you ought to join the others.”

Eli twisted her mouth up in distaste. “You won’t come later,” she sighed, shaking her head.

Remorse crept onto his face, and he nodded wearily. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I doubt I really would.”

She sighed and sank onto the couch beside him, leaning against his shoulder and closing her eyes for a moment. From this point on, it would be a more shared pain, something she could understand better than any of the others—and because of that, she couldn’t quite regret it, couldn’t hate the situation she’d just gone through. No, she hated it for _him_ , hated that her father had to go through something infinitely worse than what she’d suffered every goddamned month. And he had to live his life with the knowledge that his suffering, his pain, the curse he’d never asked for, would keep him from jobs, from housing, from being a part of wizarding society in general.

It was so unfair it made her eyes sting and her chest hurt.

When she got a spare moment, she’d write to Rolf Scamander and see if she couldn’t gauge his thoughts on the matter. Hopefully he’d grown up in his grandfather’s stride—she certainly thought he’d been rather involved with Care of Magical Creatures—but they hadn’t been in the same year, so it was difficult to say. If that path didn’t work, she’d simply write to Mr. Newton Scamander himself and ask for him to meet with her.

But first, she needed to reassure the others that she was all right, that Greyback hadn’t bitten her. One thing at a time.

“I suppose I’ll try and find the others,” Eli sighed, lifting her head. “You’ll write me if you need anything, won’t you? And I’ll be sure to send your potion in time for the next full moon.” _Perhaps with better news than an old, unaltered potion._ But she didn’t voice that thought.

Remus smiled and kissed the top of her head, perhaps more fatherly than ever before now that they’d suffered together. “I will, I swear.”

She sighed and regarded him one more time, glad to see the potions had done their work—but she didn’t blame him for staying. It was just…difficult to leave him this way. “Take care of yourself, all right? There’s no reason to be off suffering alone, dad.” Eli rose and collected her potions and vials with a flick of her wand, then tucked the Healer’s bag back into her coat pocket and donned the garment, not minding the hole and blood still on the shoulder. It served as a good reminder for what she needed to do. Once she was set, though, she leaned down and kissed his cheek, smiling widely as she stepped away to Disapparate. “Love you, dad,” she told him genuinely—the first time she’d ever really voiced that, beyond niceties at the end of letters.

His eyes were bright as he smiled up at her. “I love you too, Eli.”

She turned on the spot, reappearing moments later outside the Burrow with a _crack_ that echoed across the fields. Immediately, George stuck his head outside the door, his face lighting up when he spotted her. He dropped the stack of burned wood he’d been holding and raced over, grabbing her tightly in his arms and spinning her around a few times. “Are you all right?” he asked urgently once he’d set her down again, scrutinizing her like he could see if she’d turned or not just by looking.

“I’m fine, George,” Eli reassured him with a smile and a shake of her head. “I didn’t turn last night, just had a few side-effects from the scratch—and that’s all it was, a scratch, not a bite. So I’m in the clear. Dad didn’t figure I’d even have any leftover symptoms once this heals up.”

He nodded and hugged her tightly, resting his chin atop her head. “Y’know,” George murmured, leaning back to look her in the eye. “I wouldn’t have loved you any less if you had turned. You know that, right, love?”

Eli felt her cheeks burning. Sometimes she felt like a giddy, stupid teenager around him. “I know,” she whispered, licking her lips. “And that means the world to me.”

A shout came from inside the house. “Oi! Eli’s back!”

“Eli’s here?!”

A chorus of questions sprang up as Fred ran outside, followed by Simon—when had he even gotten there?— , with Ron, Harry, and Ginny at their heels. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came out next with Tonks, and Eli found herself in a whirlwind of hugs and questions and concerns, all of which she tried to field as quickly and succinctly explain everything.

When the Weasleys—plus Simon and Harry—had managed to settle down, and Mrs. Weasley had practically crushed Eli in hugs, Tonks stepped to her side and asked quietly, “How’s Remus doing? He must have been so worried for you…”

“He’s just fine,” Eli told her, smiling. “Although… I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the company. I can tell you where his cottage is now… Perhaps a surprise visit, you know…”

Tonks’s eyes lit up. And moments later, after Eli’s explanation, she Disapparated with her hair turning a fiery red and her cheeks flaming to match. Eli was glad, though. She hadn’t liked the idea of Remus handling the emotional fallout from the night before alone.

“So you got Greyback good, right?” Simon asked her, a sort of wicked gleam in his eyes.

Eli smirked right back. “Sent him flying, on fire. He ran like a bloody coward.”

“He _is_ a bloody coward,” Fred chimed in. “Bet he won’t muck with you again anytime soon, though. Not after that.”

She didn’t really think that would be the case—and George’s sideways look at her suggested he felt the same—but Eli was too relieved to be around her friends again to bother arguing the point. Instead, she just asked about the repair efforts, tried to find a place to help, and let the boys catch her up on the overall situation. For now, she’d keep everything inside, until she had a moment to actually _use_ her ideas, her information.

And once she had that chance…she wasn’t going to let it go.

\--

Eli threw herself into her experiments, once she returned to Hogwarts. Harry seemed to have some kind of a lead on Malfoy, so she urged him to follow it—carefully—while she tested and retested and rewrote all kinds of different formulas to change the Wolfsbane Potion. The difficulty lied in testing it, because if she had something that actually did seem viable… She’d have to ask Remus to take it, and risk having a full transformation. It about killed her to think of that possibility, but without a Ministry-sanctioned testing group she would have to make do.

January came and went, and February followed suit. She went out for lunch with the boys on Valentine’s Day, a sort of double-date between her and George, and Simon and Fred. It was lighthearted and fun, and an excellent break from the hard work she’d been doing, but she was glad to return to her experiments all the same.

At the end of February, though, Eli hit a wall and decided she needed a sounding board. So, the evening of March first, she went down to Slughorn’s office unannounced and knocked smartly on the door.

He opened it and peered outside, looking baffled and maybe a bit delighted to see her. “Ah! Miss Lupin, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Slughorn asked amiably, as he let her in.

Eli gave him a winning smile. “I was looking for some advice, actually… You see, I’ve been attempting to make some, well…improvements to the Wolfsbane Potion. It’s a very personal project of mine.”

“Now that’s a difficult one,” he mused, crossing the room to sit in a big armchair. “Tricky potion in the first place, and usually any alteration in the ingredients renders it useless.”

“That’s been my problem,” Eli admitted, taking a seat opposite him. At least he was interested—that was the hardest part, getting him to actually discuss with her. Though he was at least passionate about his subject… She couldn’t have imagined going to Snape with this. He’d never want to go that far to help Remus. “Every time I change anything, it alters the potency, and I can’t risk that, not unless it _improves_ the potency, but that’s in an ideal world…”

Slughorn drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, clicking his tongue faintly in thought. “Have you tried different treatments on the moonstone? Imbuing it with aconite, for example?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Eli sighed. “It turned the aconite too toxic for consumption.”

“Mmh.” Slughorn furrowed his brow. “Yes, it’s quite difficult… Plenty of excellent Potions Masters have tried, and failed in the past… And for good reason, the fact that the ingredients play well together at all is remarkable, hence why the amounts are so precise.”

“I once treated moonstone with aconite as a sort of charm,” she told him thoughtfully. “My father said it helped with the symptoms, and he carries it all the time now. But it’s just a piece of moonstone, so the toxicity doesn’t matter. I didn’t want to risk treating silver, that could actually become toxic for a lycanthrope to have on their person around the full moon.”

Slughorn’s eyebrows shot up. “But perhaps if you adjusted the silver, and added something to inhibit the toxicity a bit, to aid the body in handling the increased amount or potency…”

Excitement roiled in Eli’s chest at the thought. “That’s an idea… Something like hellebore or perhaps even as simple as vinegar. Or…” She blinked in surprise. “Cacao.”

“Pardon me?”

Eli nodded quickly, practically ready to leap to her feet at the moment of clarity. “It’s a touch of muggle medical knowledge, you see… It contains caffeine, which can help open the blood vessels and allow substances to be absorbed quicker. If the body processed the silver—and even aconite—quicker, then it might bypass some of the toxicity from greater amounts.” She felt like she could see stars in her vision. It was so simple, unorthodox yet inspired… And most importantly it was inexpensive. It would hardly affect the cost, and if it made the potion more effective in general, it might even serve to _cut_ costs by lowering the amounts of aconite, silver, and moonstone needed.

“I would suggest you try that, Miss Lupin,” Slughorn encouraged with a smile. “It’s a rather ingenious thought, quite unorthodox but then, our art is constantly evolving, isn’t it? And a more efficacious Wolfsbane Potion would be incredibly useful…”

Someone knocked on the door rather insistently, and Slughorn looked up with a frown. “Now who could that be?”

While he trundled over to the door to see who was there, Eli drew out her notepad and frantically scribbled the ideas down with a stick of graphite, her heart pounding. Cacao. Something to alleviate the toxicity of the silver. Perhaps also treating the silver with aconite? If she could bring the efficacy up enough to balance the costs, make it worthwhile…

Eli only looked up when she realized Harry was walking in past a reluctant Slughorn, carting Ron behind him—who looked rather dazed, if she had to say it. “Everything all right, Harry?” she asked curiously.

He winced and shrugged in reply. “Sort of. Ron ate some, er, spiked cauldron cakes.”

“Yes, Wenby here needs a good strong antidote for a love potion,” Slughorn explained as he bustled across the room and began preparing his potions equipment. “You know, I’d have thought you could whip up an antidote for this in no time, Harry—considering your aptitude for potions.”

Eli’s hackles raised. Considering his _what_? From what she knew, he was middling at best, certainly not someone who ought to be brewing an antidote for a love potion strong enough to make someone go that doe-eyed and dazed. “Would you like me to, Professor?” she asked, rising to her feet. “Since I haven’t been indulging tonight.” Slughorn had already been at a bottle of wine before she came down—and she’d hate for him to inadvertently harm Ron. “Besides, I am Madame Pomfrey’s assistant. It’s sort of my job.”

In fact, why hadn’t Harry simply brought Ron to her, or gone looking for her first? Even if he didn’t want Madame Pomfrey knowing, he ought to have reached out to her… Something was very strange here.

Slughorn beamed at her. “Oh, that sounds excellent. Yes, carry on, Miss Lupin.” He stepped away from his kit and Eli took his place, taking over the recipe where he’d left off with a practiced ease. “Did you know that Miss Lupin creates her own potions?” he asked, as though she were one of his own prodigy students.

Harry bobbed his head a bit tensely. “Er—yeah, I did. She’s great at it.”

She gritted her teeth at his tone, now certain something odd was going on. Gryffindors always made horrible liars. But she kept at her task, breezing her way through the relatively simple potion and bringing it over to Ron, who stared up at her in confusion. She caught Harry apologizing for some sort of misunderstanding earlier, but he didn’t provide any details, so that was useless. He was sneaking around her too now, which she didn’t appreciate—but this wasn’t the time to discuss it, no matter how badly she might want to.

“Here, Ron,” Eli murmured kindly, handing him a small vial of the potion.

Ron eyed the reddish liquid uncertainly. “What’s this?”

She kept a beatific smile in place as she lied smoothly, “Just something to help with the nerves, that’s all. You’ll feel much better.”

That was enough. He downed the dose in one big gulp, before passing the vial back and smiling rather blankly across the room, eyes half-lidded and dopey—until the potion took effect and Ron sat up, looking around in bewilderment, visibly shaking himself. “Wh—what happened to me?”

“Love potion,” Harry supplied helpfully.

Slughorn nodded. “And a bloody strong one at that.”

Ron furrowed his brow, still seeming a bit off. But that was to be expected, until the love potion fully left his system. “I feel… _bad_.”

“Here.” Eli reached into her Healer’s bag and poured him a small dose of Brightening Elixir, which he took without question this time. “You’ll feel better soon, it takes maybe half an hour for the love potion to work its way out—the best thing I can recommend right now is sleep, honestly. It’ll feel more like a strange dream by morning.”

“Thanks, Eli.” He offered a weak but genuine smile.

Across the room, Slughorn was rummaging around in his cabinet. “Mh, I think this’ll do us all good…” He produced a large bottle, wrapped as though it was meant to be a gift, and hurriedly ripped through the paper. “Now this is a rather dazzling oak-matured mead. It will quite warm your spirits, m’boy.”

Eli waved a hand. “None for me. I should be going, Madame Pomfrey wanted me on duty overnight. I’ll let you know the results of my experiments, Professor.”

Slughorn waved quite jovially at her as he began pouring the mead. “Excellent. Have a good night, Miss Lupin!”

With her goodbyes said, Eli set off down the hall, still bristling a bit. Harry was no potions prodigy. She absolutely knew that, knew it from Snape, from the boy himself… So that left the question of why Slughorn thought he was. Could the old man simply have lost his touch, and Harry was mediocre in class but famous enough to get by? Or…was something else going on?

Eli had nearly exited the dungeons entirely when she heard loud screaming coming from Slughorn’s office. Cursing, she turned and sprinted back, bursting into the office just in time to see Harry forcing a bezoar down Ron’s throat, while the redhead lay immobile on the rug, going blue in the face.

She took in the details in mere moments. Blue lips from lack of oxygen. Heaving chest suggesting lungs still functioning, something else was affecting them. Pale grey skin color. Foaming at the corner of his mouth. It was practically textbook-perfect poison. “Move,” Eli ordered Harry sharply, already dragging ingredients from her Healer’s belt as she knelt beside Ron. “The bezoar was a good thought, but he might not be out of the woods yet.” She liked to talk as she worked—it helped keep her focused.

Eli quickly mixed together two drops of one potion and a solid teaspoon of another, which she tipped down Ron’s throat before yanking her wand and flicking it over him, trying to find the source. A purple flicker at the tip of her wand confirmed poison, but there were a hundred different ruddy poisons.

“What did he eat?” she asked, whipping her head around to look at Slughorn. But the professor had gone mute and immobile.

Harry pointed at a short glass, laying on its side by the sofa. “He only drank some of the mead, that’s all. Professor Slughorn and I didn’t have any yet. Before that it was the cauldron cakes, but that was a while ago…”

“This seems fast-acting,” Eli confirmed. She grabbed another vial—this one filled with a smoky green liquid—and poured a half teaspoon into Ron’s mouth next. He was breathing easier by that point, some of the usual color returning to his lips and cheeks, but Eli still sensed he was tenuous, too unstable to move or even Apparate. So what could it be? If the bezoar worked, that narrowed it down a touch, but the majority of the most common poisons could be handled with a bezoar. Sighing, Eli selected a generic antidote and gave Ron an additional tablespoon of that, for good measure. Only then did his breathing totally settle and his lips lose that unnatural blue tint.

She looked up at Slughorn, anger touching her chest as she saw he _still_ had yet to react. “Professor!” she snapped, narrowing her eyes. “Send for Madame Pomfrey _now_!”

Slughorn hesitantly sat the bottle of mead down and nodded, his gaze distance. “Y-yes… Right away…”

Eli scowled at his back something fierce as he headed off to do just that. But rather than focusing on her fury, she turned back to Ron, wanting to make sure he was stable before she turned her attention elsewhere. That was the right thing to do, no matter how upset she was. “Danger is just following you, Harry,” she murmured. “You need to be careful.”

He twisted his mouth up, but nodded all the same.

With Madame Pomfrey’s assistance—and consent—Eli helped her get Ron back to the hospital wing, though mostly her task seemed to be insisting that Slughorn do something, bloody anything, since he’d shut down almost entirely. Finally Eli tired of his dismal stuttering and sent him to fetch Dumbledore and McGonagall, who needed to be filled in. It was a touch…presumptuous of her to order a professor to do anything, but yet she did it anyway, refusing to let him just shuffle around helplessly. If Harry hadn’t been there…if he hadn’t suddenly gained such a greater understanding of potions… Slughorn wouldn’t have acted to save Ron’s life, and she had no doubts he wouldn’t be alive now.

As Eli listed the potions she’d already given Ron, and Madame Pomfrey nodded thoughtfully, Harry stood to the side of the bed uncertainly, glancing between his friend and Eli. So he was worried. Good, he ought to be. Once Ron was settled and everything was taken care of, she had every intention of interrogating him about his sudden potion-making prowess.

Eli busied herself replenishing some of her potions while Dumbledore and McGonagall spoke with Harry and Slughorn, though she made sure to listen. Ginny and Hermione had been alerted as well, it seemed, and both took up seats beside Ron’s bed, Ginny giving Eli a baffled and worried look.

“That was very quick thinking on your part, Harry,” Dumbledore observed, picking up the abandoned bottle of mead. “Using a bezoar. A rather inspired moment. You must be very proud of your student, Horace.”

Slughorn’s head lifted slowly. “Hm? Ah, yes… Very proud,” he agreed softly.

She tensed up just faintly, a bit frustrated at being left out of the equation. The bezoar hadn’t entirely saved his life—merely bought him the time he needed.

“And lucky Miss Lupin was so close by, as well,” Dumbledore added then, giving her a nod.

Eli bobbed her head. Lucky indeed.

McGonagall huffed and furrowed her brow. “Heroic and lucky, yes—but the question remains, why were their actions necessary?”

“Why indeed.” The Headmaster examined the bottle of mead curiously, turning it over in his hands and tugging at the bit of wrapping paper still clinging to the glass. “This appears…to be a gift, Horace. I don’t suppose you happen to recall who gave you this bottle, do you?” He sniffed at the mouth, and Eli winced, sharing a look with Madame Pomfrey. One oughtn’t to _sniff_ a poison, wafting it towards the face was the only safe option… “This seems…rather a lovely gift. It possesses remarkably subtle hints of licorice and cherry, when not polluted with poison.”

Eli turned around fully, curious to hear the answer, not just because she wanted to relay the information back to the Order.

Slughorn swallowed and gave the bottle a rather fearful look. “Actually, I…I had intended to give it as a gift myself.”

“To whom, I might ask?” Dumbledore inquired curiously.

“To you, Headmaster.”

Eli felt nausea swelling deep in her abdomen, her throat burning. That was the second time. First the cursed necklace, then the poisoned mead… Was this truly an attempt on Dumbledore’s life? If so it was a halfhearted one, a coward’s methodology. Curses and poison, all at a distance, all carefully crafted to allow the culprit to be far away from the murder itself.

The door to the hospital wing burst open, and a girl burst in with tears streaming down her face, shrieking something unintelligible. Eli watched with a raised eyebrow as she raced to Ron’s bedside, bursting through the professors to stand beside him.

Yet when she spotted Hermione, who was now holding Ron’s hand lightly, the girl’s eyes narrowed into something nasty and fierce. “What’s _she_ doing here?!” she demanded.

Hermione stared at her in shock—and something… _more_ , if Eli weren’t mistaken. “I might ask you the same thing!” she shot back, incensed.

The girl sniffed and tossed one curly braid over her shoulder. “I happen to be his girlfriend.”

“And I happen to be his—friend,” Hermione told her sharply, despite the hesitation halfway through the middle.

Eli stepped forward as Madame Pomfrey made an unhappy face. “Keep your voices down, please,” she asked, more than a bit coldly. “If either of you care about him, you’ll mind that he went through quite a shock and needs rest.”

With that she turned on her heel and went back to replenishing her stock, ignoring the problems behind her. She was just grateful she’d never been such a simpering little girl as _that_ one was—George mightn’t have ever looked her way if she acted so ridiculously. However…she wasn’t willing to leave just yet. First she needed to corner Harry, find out how in Merlin’s name he’d become some ruddy potions prodigy in just a few months.

Her opportunity came after Ron’s supposed girlfriend raced out in tears, and Dumbledore ushered the other professors out with him, Slughorn still in shock. Eli wrapped her Healer’s bag around her waist and approached him, arms crossed over her chest. “Harry, a word, please?” she asked, with a jerk of her head towards the doors.

Reluctantly he followed her out, still trailing when she rounded on him and demanded, “So, since when are you some potions genius, hm? We both know you’ve never been one before.”

Harry visibly bristled. “It’s just—making sense to me this year, that’s all.”

“Bollocks.” Eli snorted and shook her head. “You’re lying to a Slytherin, it’s not going to work. A Slytherin _and_ someone with a genuine aptitude for potion-making, no less. Now, a bezoar is a great thought, and you absolutely saved Ron’s life—so I’m not going to have a go at you.” She sighed and looked away, trying to remind herself of the missed connection in their lives, the fact that they should’ve grown up as family, _would_ have, in another world. “Just…be careful, please? Potion-making is as much a science as an art, and if you aren’t careful… Something awful will happen. And if you need help with potions, you can always ask, you know.”

He looked a bit confused by her change in attitude, but nodded anyway, giving just a faint smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Eli. For—for everything.”

“It’s no problem.” She reached out, refusing to let herself hesitate, and pulled him into a quick hug. _We should’ve been family. We still can be, though._ “Just remember, I’m in your corner on all this. You just have to ask.”

\--

The next full moon, Eli drafted her letter to Rolf Scamander, using graphite for simplicity’s sake, and after several rounds of edits she was forced to set it aside or else go mad with trying to perfect it. She had intended to wait a bit longer, but that whole night, the entire duration of moonrise, her scarring claw-mark on her shoulder burned and ached, driving her to get a head start on her plans. The pain would be her secret—Remus didn’t need to carry that burden, and she still believed once her injury healed completely it would cease.

She finally sorted out her letter just before the end of April, and sent it off with an owl borrowed from the school. It took nearly two weeks for Rolf to write back. In a stroke of luck, he remembered her and though he was a Hufflepuff, he had no poor memories of her. Eli was grateful she’d crossed house lines and not kept to Slytherin’s usual stereotypes.

_‘I’ve written my grandfather to see if he’s willing to meet you. Usually he’s unwilling to meet fans, sign autographs, that sort of rubbish, but this is quite a different situation. Providing you don’t come in gushing over his achievements in magizoology, you ought to be just fine.’_

The whole thing was promising thus far, but Eli still needed to make some progress on the Wolfsbane Potion. It would really strengthen her case if she could put forth a revised version of the recipe, something more effective—perhaps enough to make the general wizarding public feel better about werewolves in general. Half the battle would be the public opinion on lycanthropy, for so many wizards still thought of them as monsters and the like, so she was prepared for quite a fight just to get the register taken down, or even altered.

While yet another trial batch of Wolfsbane bubbled away beside her, Eli set about writing a list of changes, ideas for the Werewolf Register. It ranged from _payment plans for Wolfsbane_ to _register unavailable to employers_ and _assistance programs for new lycanthropes_ , just a dumping ground for anything she came up with, really.

All of this, every bit of planning she could do, would strengthen her case—whether she’d be putting it in front of Mr. Scamander or the Ministry itself. She’d always identified with the cunning and sharp aspects of her house…but this was perhaps one of the first times she’d actually felt the ambition, the fierce drive Slytherins were supposed to have as well. But it was there, like a bolt of lightning ready to burst from her chest, this fierce desire to actually be at the head of these changes, to enact them in the world herself.

Eli jumped as an owl rapped on her window with its beak, startling her from her work. She crossed the bedroom hurriedly and opened the window, allowing the owl to flutter inside and alight on the back of her chair, a wax-sealed letter clutched firmly in its beak. It was much too early for Rolf to have written her back, surely, so what could it be? Frowning, Eli took the letter and pulled an owl treat out from her desk, which she gave to the owl before quickly breaking the seal and unfolding the letter.

 

_Miss Lupin,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health. My grandson informed me of your desire to discuss the Werewolf Register with me—and your intention to make alterations, as well. I find I am quite intrigued by the suggestion. For a long time I have been disappointed in the results of what I intended to be a useful, supportive piece of legislature, but have seen no clear avenues in which to correct it. Perhaps a young, bright mind could divine a way._

_I understand your father is a lycanthrope himself, so undoubtedly this is a rather personal subject for you as well. I want to assure you that I had no ill intentions towards the lycanthropic community when I suggested the register, and I am deeply sorry for what has come of it. No doubt your father has suffered prejudices, and perhaps you as well, from my misstep._

_Rolf has explained you are currently employed at Hogwarts, and therefore I assume you’ll be quite tied up for the next couple months, until the end of the school year. Usually my wife and I travel during the summer, but if you have the time, I’d be happy to meet you perhaps the first week of July? We can discuss any possibilities then. I will write you at the end of June to ensure you know our location, and we can select a meeting spot at that time._

_Additionally, if I somehow fail to contact you by July, please feel free to write me yourself. I would so desperately like to remedy the deplorable situation this has become._

_Regards,_

_Newt Scamander, Order of Merlin, Second Class_

 

Eli pressed her hand over her mouth to quell an excited shriek. He was willing to meet with her! Rolf had come through! She’d have to write and thank him—and write Mr. Scamander as well. Now the only difficulty would lie in keeping her secret until she had something concrete…

The cauldron containing her latest experiment suddenly released a burst of purple smoke that smelt rather strongly of sulfur, and Eli winced, evanescing it immediately. _And_ she needed to make some ruddy headway on this touchy potion, too. If even the great Newton Scamander hadn’t seen any feasible way to fix the register, she really would need a lot of fire behind her to get anything done.


	22. A Bright Spot in the Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to the next installment! This one is...intense, and definitely heads into some interesting territory. So I hope you all enjoy!

It was an unassuming Tuesday in late June when Eli finally found her first bit of success. She’d been composing a letter to George, intending to let him know she’d be a day or two late returning home—Mr. Scamander had written to let her know he and his wife would be in a little town called Eoropaidh on Lewis, in Scotland’s Outer Hebrides, and they’d planned to meet on July 3rd. Until she’d actually spoken with him, she was unwilling to let George—or anyone—in on her plans. Not until Eli really thought she had something.

The scratching of Eli’s quill first covered up the pleasant bubbling sound coming from the potion, but after a moment, her senses tuned into it and she leapt up, standing as close as she dared over the cauldron.

Inside, the potion was a rather unfamiliar shade of cobalt blue, much darker than it usually was. But that would make sense, given that this was intended as a more intense dose, rather than one which needed to be taken over the week preceding the full moon. Eli wanted it to be easier to fit into one’s life, so she’d been aiming for it to be taken only the day of the full moon, twenty-four hours ahead, to be exact. One single, simple dose.

Smoke so blue it was almost black curled off the potion in soft tendrils, and Eli tentatively wafted some of it towards herself. It was certainly bitter… With the increased concentration of aconite, not to mention the cacao she’d added, that wasn’t surprising. Nor was the silvery sheen to the surface. Eli leant over to check her notes, a million things running through her head at once.

What if she’d overworked the aconite? It could’ve lost its potency, or worse, become too toxic for consumption… Or perhaps the silver would be too toxic… She’d had to decrease the valerian root as well, and if that had altered the composition too much? Would it even _work_?

God, there were a myriad of tests she still needed to run, but… It _seemed_ right, from where she stood. Eli withdrew her wand from the pocket of her coat and flicked it over the cauldron, assessing, trying to get a feel for the toxicity and efficacy. Once she brewed it again to ensure consistency in her recipe, she’d have to finally reach out to Remus and get a small sample of his blood for testing—it was the safest experiment, to see how it reacted with lycanthropic blood. Of course, she could also try it on her own, it might be an interesting first litmus test for the potion…

Eli wiped at her eyes as tears pricked the corners. She…had actually modified the potion somehow, _without_ it completely blowing up in her face, or otherwise just falling apart, being completely useless… A potion most had considered completely unworkable for decades, and she had managed to brew a brand-new, improved version of it.

Pressing her hands over her face, Eli sank into her chair and just tried to breathe. First things first. She needed to preserve this version and write a clean copy of the recipe, and then do it again, with the exact measurements she’d written down before. If it couldn’t be replicated it was useless, after all.

Her second attempt came out exactly the same—that dark cobalt with the nearly-black smoke. So Eli drew a little blood and put it into what she thought of as a wizard’s petri dish. They were little glass bowls used for ingredients, usually, but she liked to mix small amounts of substances in them regardless, finding the size useful. Plus, they were small enough to not take up too much space even if she had to arrange ingredients for a really complex potion like this one.

Eli tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and carefully spooned out just a tablespoon of the potion, watching it cling to the back of the spoon. A bit thicker than usual Wolfsbane, she noted, but that was—again—to be expected. Then she took a dropper and put just a few drops of her own blood in and mixed it, searching for any kind of adverse reaction, anything to indicate it would harm a werewolf instead of simply cutting off part of the transformation. If it were too strong, it would attack the lycanthropic parts of her blood and create _some_ kind of reaction, though with such small amounts the reaction would be minimal. If the formulation was too potent and a full lycanthrope actually drank the potion…it might kill them.

But nothing smoked, exploded, hissed… There wasn’t a single change or indication of anything negative. Eli let out a slow breath through her teeth. Everything was pointing to success… But there was absolutely no certainty until she ran an actual test. God, it was nerve-wracking, finally being _here_ , needing to arrange tests and vetting through the Ministry… Before, it had all been hypothetical, but now it was blindingly, terrifyingly _real_. Eli was surprised by how different it felt now, with something legitimate under her belt.

She’d proven all the naysayers wrong. The Wolfsbane Potion _could_ be altered. Now she just needed to see if it could be altered successfully.

The rest of her day was spent documenting everything, testing and retesting, and generally trying to keep her head on straight. Eli hated not telling anyone—but at the same time, she knew how dangerous it could be if word of her experiments reached the wrong people… There were plenty of wizards who only wanted lycanthropes to be viewed as creatures like Greyback, rather than her father, people who sought to discredit any attempts to humanize them. But Eli wouldn’t be deterred. She would just keep everything close to her chest until the right moment to reveal it all.

Eli was just…so bloody excited for it all. For just a few heartbeats, it really felt like her life was coming together.

\--

After staying up all the night before, Eli slept in late the next day. Madame Pomfrey would send for her if she was needed, and it was nearly time for the students to go home, after all. She did emerge for dinner, taking it in the staff room while chatting amiably with Slughorn. He’d really quite taken to her, as he loved his craft and was delighted to find someone else who shared that love. In passing, he confided to her that Lily Potter would’ve adored her, something that made Eli’s heart ache for yet another connection she’d never had. It was still flattering all the same, though.

“Now, you are coming back next year, correct?” Slughorn pressed, looking extremely interested in her answer.

Eli bobbed her head. “Yes, Madame Pomfrey’s taken me on for next year as well—two years of apprenticing before I have a chance of taking my test and qualifying to become a full Healer. Usually prospective Healers go through separate schooling, but I’ve bypassed that, she said I don’t need to bother.”

He gave her a proud smile. “Excellent, absolutely excellent. Though, should you ever decide to focus on the art of potion-making, I will always be happy to take on an assistant.”

It was tempting, admittedly, but Eli still wanted to be a Healer. “I’ll keep that in mind, but-”

_Crash!_

Eli leapt to her feet as a loud _bang_ followed the shattering sound, her heart in her throat. Then the screaming began. “Death Eaters,” she breathed.

Slughorn had gone quite pale and sweaty. “N-now—surely it can’t be—not in the _castle_ -”

But Eli had already taken off running. As she ran, she cast her Patronus, sending the silvery jaguar leaping through walls on its way to Hogsmeade, where she knew her father and Tonks were stationed that night. Next she cast an avian messenger charm to alert McGonagall, though she assumed the professor already was aware of the commotion.

Eli emerged into chaos. Students were out of bed, sprinting to and fro in their nightclothes as McGonagall directed them, sending them towards the dungeons for safety, though plenty were far too panicked to even comprehend her words.

Gritting her teeth, Eli grabbed a small first year by the shoulders and pushed her in the right direction, the girl shrieking and ducking her head like she thought she’d be attacked.

“Eli!” A young brunette girl, just a bit shorter than Eli herself, raced up and caught the first-year’s arm. “Go on, down to the dungeons, now,” the brunette ordered. When she straightened and grinned fiercely at Eli, she recognized her with a jolt of surprise.

“Nancy?”

The Slytherin girl’s eyes sparkled. “Thought you’d remember me.” Behind her, an athletic-looking Hufflepuff girl hurried up, wand out and auburn hair tied in two plaits down her shoulders. Eli recognized her too—Nancy Clements’ little friend Ada Greenbrier. “How can we help? What’s going on?” Nancy pressed, crossing her arms.

Eli didn’t hesitate. “Death Eaters have broken into the school. I need you to get all of the younger students out of the hall, anyone who’s panicking outright or just wouldn’t be able to defend themselves.”

As she spoke, Ginny came sprinting by, red hair flying behind her as she tore down the hall after McGonagall.

Ada quirked an eyebrow and pointed in her direction. “So…not her, I’m assuming.”

“Definitely not.” Eli turned to follow Ginny, but then jerked back, a thought occurring to her. “If you see Remus Lupin—my dad, our old Defense professor, you remember—anywhere, send him my way, please? He’ll be coming to help.”

Nancy bobbed her head. “Got it. Be safe, Eli!” She grabbed Ada’s wrist and dragged the girl off, both hurrying up the stairs where a handful of confused students had gone, seeking shelter.

With that taken care of, Eli hurried after Ginny, knowing the girl would be heading straight for the action, as always. And sure enough, she found Ginny with Ron and Hermione, all of whom were trailing Professor McGonagall as they searched for the source.

“We found a few broken windows up near the Astronomy Tower,” Ginny explained quickly, as Eli approached. “But we haven’t seen-”

She was cut off as a pair of Death Eaters stepped into the corridor—twins, by the look of them, and both grinning wickedly. The male twin let off a curse right at Ginny, which McGonagall deflected, but she was quickly drawn into a different battle as more Death Eaters began flooding the area, all eager for blood.

When Fenrir Greyback stepped in, a snarling grin on his face, Eli felt nothing more than rage. She stepped past Ginny and immediately found herself deflecting Greyback’s curses, dragging him away from the others—this was _her_ fight, he was too dangerous to put on anyone else, even though it wasn’t a full moon this time. Eli just wouldn’t risk it. Besides, Greyback seemed to be relishing their fight, sending off killing curses every other bloody spell he cast, absolutely hungering for her death.

“Did you have fun last time, little girl?” he asked, smirking as he protected himself from a Freezing Charm she shot off at him.

Eli tipped her head. “I had fun burning the hell out of you, if that’s what you mean.”

He grinned something awful. “Oh, I’m sure you did…” Another Killing Curse, this one a bit too close for comfort. Eli felt it singe her hair as it flew past her ear. “But that _night_ , didn’t you have fun under the full moon?”

She clenched her teeth. He thought he could get to her that way—but she wasn’t going to be so easy. Besides… “What, you thought you turned me?” Eli tossed her hair. “Guess again, arsehole.”

Greyback bared his fangs in frustration, but at least it curbed his banter. Though it made him attack her more fiercely, forcing Eli to dance backwards, flinging up shield after shield just to avoid taking some awful curse in the chest…

Then a spell flew from behind her, which knocked Greyback into the next hallway, out of sight.

Eli turned to see Remus standing with his wand out, fury contorting his features. “Not again,” he snarled, his hand giving a faint tremor just from how tightly he was gripping his wand.

“Thanks for that,” Eli told him, catching his attention.

Remus squeezed her around the shoulders as she approached, softening just a bit. “How did this happen?” he asked tensely. “How the bloody hell did Death Eaters get inside the castle?”

She had a sinking suspicion she knew, but there just wasn’t time—so Eli merely shrugged and began to lead him back towards the others. “I haven’t a clue. But we need to help the others, some of the DA will be out there fighting, I don’t want to leave them alone…”

They rejoined the battle just outside the Great Hall, where that ruddy female Death Eater was still after Ginny—but they’d added Neville to their ranks, and Tonks, who was fiercely handling her own Death Eater with admirable skill. Moments later, Luna came rushing into the hall in a pair of hippogriff pyjamas, hair flying loose around her as she went to help Ginny.

Between frantic moments, Remus filled her in on the situation—Eli’s Patronus had alerted them just a few minutes before the Dark Mark appeared above the Astronomy Tower, allowing him and Tonks to arrive earlier, and even to send word to Bill Weasley, who was somewhere else helping as well. Soon after his explanation, though, Eli was dragged into battle with some Death Eater she didn’t recognize, and she lost track of her father in the fight. They were spreading out, trying to get the Death Eaters alone, trying to thin their numbers. And it was working, Eli noticed. Slowly, the Death Eaters were fleeing, racing away from the battle to get out of Hogwarts.

She finally overcame her adversary and found herself without someone to fight, as the rest of the Order and the DA had their own situations handled. So Eli took it upon herself to fulfil her duties as a Healer, darting back into the hallway where it all had started to search for any wounded. As she rounded the corner, Harry came racing past her, not stopping, with this awful look of rage and pain cemented on his face.

Eli turned, wanting to help, wanting to know what the bloody hell was happening—but a groan from towards the nearest staircase dragged her attention away. She hurried down the now-empty hallway and came to the stairs leading up towards the Astronomy Tower, spying two figures lying on the ground. One was Greyback, likely petrified—but the other…

“No,” Eli whispered. She flicked her wand at Greyback, shoving him into the far wall, as she dropped to her knees beside Bill Weasley’s unconscious form. She knew, she _knew_ what he’d done… What that monster had done… Unlike the wound on her shoulder, this one had teeth-marks, visible scrapes from those ever-present fangs… Greyback had likely caught him unawares, for Bill was an excellent duelist, in a fair fight he never would’ve lost…

With trembling hands, Eli pulled several potions from her bag, filling a dropper with essence of dittany almost automatically. She needed to close his wounds, needed to get him somewhere safe, restrain Greyback, find someone else…

But Eli froze above his face, where the worst damage was, something pressing hard at the back of her mind. And slowly, ever so slowly, she withdrew a small vial of her brand-new Wolfsbane formula, rolling it between her fingers. Greyback hadn’t been fully transformed. So Bill wouldn’t be a fully-fledged werewolf, or at least, he oughtn’t to be… If he were lucky, he’d come out with a handful of symptoms, nothing worse than a penchant for raw meat and the potential heightening of his senses around the full moon. That was the textbook explanation, the popular belief.

And yet… And yet and yet…

Eli herself had suffered on the full moon from a mere _scratch_. Just one small rake of his claws across her shoulder had given her pains for three full moons now. Perhaps the popular belief…was _wrong_.

The full moon had been a little more than a week ago… Some of its effects might linger in a creature like Greyback, even if they weren’t visible in someone like her father.

So, Eli measured out a single half-teaspoon of the potion, and carefully tipped it down Bill’s throat.

For a moment, nothing happened. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, two fingers pressed into his wrist to monitor his pulse, but he remained unconscious, not even reacting to the potion at all. So…had it been a failure? Or was she wrong to think…

But then, his wounds began closing up. Not very much, but they were shrinking, yet the blood wasn’t clotting. It took Eli a moment to realize what was happening, and when she realized, she thought she might faint dead away. Blood was flowing _out_ of his wounds, rather than clotting it was flowing more freely, trickling down his face even as the skin began to knit back together, the essence of dittany contained in the potion doing its work.

Eli pulled a cloth out of her bag and began carefully mopping up the blood, switching spots on the cloth so as not to reintroduce the lycanthropic blood back into his system.

The potion…had caused some of the tainted blood to be purposefully _expelled_ from him, like drawing poison from a wound. There was still some debate over how lycanthropy was passed—saliva alone didn’t seem to do the trick, yet a mere bite could cause all manner of symptoms. And no one had been able to discern if it came perhaps from the teeth, if there was a change there, or perhaps it was the introduction of saliva into the bloodstream…

But whatever it was, the potion seemed to just…fight against it.

Eli sucked in a breath when Bill’s wounds began to clot. She had no idea what might happen…but she knew one thing.

She couldn’t tell a bloody soul about it.

Still shaking, Eli tucked the evidence away and set about truly cleaning his wounds, knowing how difficult it would be to actually _close_ them… Werewolf bites were difficult to heal to begin with, and Greyback had been angry, from his fight with Eli and then Remus… He had been aiming to turn Bill and do as much damage as he could in the process. It was savagery, pure and simple. Eli had never seen wounds so awful in her life—if he healed from them at all, it would leave permanent scarring, he would never look the same… She could take so little satisfaction from what she’d done, knowing Bill would suffer for perhaps the rest of his days regardless of her actions.

Eli rose to her feet and pointed her wand at Greyback, binding him first and then knocking him out cold, while leaving him still petrified. She then levitated Bill as carefully as she could, heading for the hospital wing. There was nothing else she could do now.

\--

Standing beside Bill’s hospital bed, Eli kept her fingers wound tightly together, stilling the twitching they wanted to do. Madame Pomfrey had taken over where she’d left off, her face very grave—the Healer hadn’t even complained when people began to trickle in, merely set Eli to help Neville when Luna brought him in. She didn’t even comment when Luna, Ron, Hermione, Remus, and Tonks all crowded round Bill’s bed, most of whom were injured in some way from the battle.

“What happened?” Remus asked softly, though the aching sorrow in his voice suggested he’d already guessed.

Eli couldn’t meet his gaze. “Greyback attacked him,” she explained, loud enough that the others could hear.

Hermione let out a soft whimper, and Ron squeezed her shoulder almost reflexively.

“I did what I could,” Eli continued in a softer voice, losing confidence in the overwhelming silence that followed. “There isn’t really anything to be done, but I tried, I…” Her voice cracked and she stopped. Bill was like family—knowing he would suffer broke her heart.

Of anyone, Tonks crossed and wrapped Eli in a tight hug. “You probably saved his life,” she murmured, holding her out by the shoulders. “You’ve nothing to feel bad for.”

Eli nodded, unable to summon up anything else. But Tonks remained there with an arm around her shoulders, offering silent comfort while Madame Pomfrey worked. Even the usually unflappable Healer seemed unbalanced, sniffing every once in a while as she went through several ointments, doing what she could for the damage on Bill’s face.

“Eli…” Remus reached out and brushed a piece of hair from her face. “Dora is right. You saved Bill’s life tonight, of that I have no doubt. This could be so, so much worse, I’ve seen…” He paused, shook his head, and amended, “You did well.”

The doors at the back of the hospital wing creaked open, and Harry walked in with Ginny, linked by their hands. Eli didn’t think she’d ever seen him so ghostly white. Hermione rushed over and grabbed him in a quick hug, which he only halfheartedly returned, adding to the sense of dread rapidly pooling in her stomach. Something was wrong, so very wrong…

“Are you all right, Harry?” Remus asked worriedly.

Harry nodded a bit numbly. “I’m fine… How’s Bill?”

Eli watched him closely when no one replied, merely let him see for himself—the wounds told him all he needed to know, anyway. Harry didn’t even seem surprised by the sight.

“Can’t you…fix them up with a charm or something?” he asked, looking between Eli and Madame Pomfrey.

“There’s no charm for werewolf bites,” Eli whispered.

Madame Pomfrey spared a quick glance up at Harry to confirm it. “I’ve tried everything I know, but Miss Lupin is right. There’s simply nothing to be done.”

Ron’s eyes scanned the group uncertainly before dropping down to stare at his brother again. “B-but he…” He swallowed visibly. “It wasn’t the full moon tonight, Greyback wasn’t even transformed when he bit him… Doesn’t that make a difference? Surely Bill won’t be a—a real…” But he trailed off with an anxious look up at Remus.

“He won’t be a fully-fledged werewolf, no,” Remus confirmed gently. “There will be some…side-effects, though, I’m afraid. He will maintain some wolfish tendencies, and likely exhibit more symptoms coinciding with the full moon. But he won’t transform.”

Unbidden, Eli’s hand lifted to her shoulder, to the wound that still burned every month. Had she spared Bill from anything at all?

Looking rather like he’d had a great epiphany, Ron suggested, “But—Dumbledore might know something that’d work, right? He always knows all sorts of stuff nobody else does, maybe he can help…”

“Dumbledore’s dead.”

Ginny spoke the words so bluntly that it took a moment for them to sink in. Yet when they did, Eli felt a cold, heavy dread settle on her shoulders. _Dead_. Dumbledore was…was _dead_? But that band of Death Eaters… Even supposing they had one or two more powerful ones Eli hadn’t encountered, unless Voldemort himself had shown then who on earth could’ve killed the Headmaster? She couldn’t fathom it. Ginny had to be wrong, there was no way…

“No!” Remus looked utterly horrified. “That’s not—that’s impossible, he can’t…”

Harry met his gaze and nodded, just once. Going pure white in the face, Remus sank into the nearest chair and dropped his head into his hands, shoulders slumping, utterly overcome by the news. Eli stepped out of Tonks’s arm and went to her father, both seeking and giving comfort as she crouched beside him and wrapped her arm around his, holding tight as she could.

Dumbledore was dead.

She listened as Harry recounted his tale—that Malfoy had disarmed him, but Snape had dealt the final blow, he’d been the one to cast the Killing Curse that ended Dumbledore’s life. Her own head of house. One of the few people to have maintained faith in her after her Sorting, after Eli had been shunned by most of her house… Snape had mentored her in potions, offered his time and expertise to help guide her into the potion-maker she was today… Eli felt sick to her stomach. All this time…he’d been working for Voldemort… A whirlwind of memories flitted through her head, once positive moments with Snape turning dark and unfamiliar as she realized she’d never known him at all.

When Professor McGonagall walked in, no one moved.

“Molly and Arthur are on their way,” she announced, dragging most of the room out of whatever dark corners of their minds they’d reached.

Remus gripped Eli’s hand tightly as he looked up, meeting her gaze with a pained one of his own as Harry again explained what had happened. His words had a similar effect on McGonagall, who would’ve collapsed to the floor without Madame Pomfrey’s timely intervention in the form of conjuring a chair beneath her.

“All this time,” McGonagall breathed. “We’ve all thought… Yet Dumbledore trusted him… I… I can’t believe it…”

Eli felt Remus’s hand clench onto hers even tighter, almost painfully as he practically snarled, “We all know Snape was an accomplished Occlumens. He could’ve hidden anything he wanted to, from any of us.”

“Dumbledore always swore we could trust him,” Tonks murmured, her voice thin and horrorstruck. “I thought he must know something we didn’t…”

Everything faded away to a dull roar in Eli’s ears. When Remus went to comfort McGonagall, she rose and crossed back to Bill, taking up Madame Pomfrey’s now-abandoned pot of ointment and continuing to apply it to his wounds. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else. She didn’t want to hear it. She’d ask Ginny to explain it to her later, when she had calmed down more… For now she could only keep her hands busy, could only distract herself to keep from falling apart.

She was able to stay focused until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived with Fleur—Bill’s fiancée—in tow, and only then did Eli step away, allowing them to take over. Eli stepped well to the side and wrapped her arms around her stomach, still wondering, still wrestling with guilt and sadness and horror all bundled up into one big mess inside her head.

There was a commotion when Mrs. Weasley implied Fleur wouldn’t want to marry Bill after what had happened, and the part-Veela girl sort of shrieked at her, incensed and fully secure in her feelings for him, which ended in both women crying on each other. Eli was pleased they were sort of getting along, for historically, Mrs. Weasley hadn’t liked Fleur all that much. She turned away from the two, trying to avert her gaze respectfully, and spotted Tonks staring at Remus with tears glittering in her eyes, something he was studiously ignoring.

“You see!” she shouted, her lip quivering even as she scowled at him. “She still wants to marry him, it doesn’t matter that he’s been bitten!”

Remus shifted uncomfortably. “The situations are—quite different, really, Bill won’t ever be a full werewolf, he’ll never transform… You can’t compare that, you simply can’t.”

Eli blinked slowly, staring between them. So he was at this again…

“But I don’t care either,” Tonks snapped, as a few tears slipped down her cheeks, which she ignored. “I’ve told you a million times, I don’t bloody care! It doesn’t matter to me, Remus, none of it does!”

He winced as she gripped onto his robes, shaking his head. “Let’s not do this again, please, I’ve told you… There are a myriad of reasons why we can’t—why _I_ can’t… You’ll find someone much better, you know you will, someone who can provide for you and isn’t quite so…so old and…” A flash of self-hatred crossed his face. “…and dangerous to you…”

“Not hardly,” Eli piped up, keeping her chin high. “Don’t start on that again, dad, you aren’t dangerous—I make sure of that, besides. So you’ve no argument there.”

Remus gave her an exasperated look, as though he’d expected her to be on his side. “This isn’t the moment to discuss it,” he tried, attempting to deflect everyone’s attention—which was now fixated quite firmly on his and Tonks’s argument. “She deserves far better than me, and we oughtn’t—not right now, Dumbledore has just…died, and…”

McGonagall sniffed and looked down her nose at him. “Don’t you think Dumbledore would be happier knowing there was a little more love in the world, Remus?”

The moment was broken by Hagrid’s somber entrance, for apparently he had been tasked with handling—Dumbledore’s body—and with that done, McGonagall had other problems to take care of. She took Harry with her and summoned the heads of houses, sweeping out of the hospital wing with her shoulders squared, nary a trace of distress on her face. But they knew. They all knew.

Tonks released Remus and stalked across the room, angry tears still trickling down her face as she approached Mrs. Weasley and Fleur. Eli watched her go, let her move out of earshot, before she caught her father’s arm and pulled him away from the group.

“I know what you’re going to say-” he tried.

But she interrupted him. “I’ve modified the Wolfsbane Potion,” Eli told him. Her heart was beating so hard it _hurt_ , but she knew she needed to tell him, secrecy be damned.

Remus’s eyes shot wide. “You’ve _what_?”

She merely pressed on, aware that if she stopped she’d lose her nerve. “I tested it on my own blood, since I have lycanthropic blood in me, and nothing happened—so I gave Bill just a bit. It seemed to…to expel the contaminated blood right out of his system, and it let his wounds close up some too, immediately. I know I shouldn’t have done it but I wanted to spare him the pain. The point is…” Eli sucked in a breath and met his astonished gaze. “It _worked_ , at least to an extent. I’ve altered it to be taken once, twenty-four hours before the full moon, and while I obviously haven’t tested it fully, clearly I’m onto something.” She gestured subtly at Bill to emphasize her point. “And in three days, I’m going up to the Outer Hebrides to meet with Newt Scamander to discuss my plans to improve the Werewolf Register. So you-” Eli prodded him at the center of his chest. “-have no ruddy excuse. Unless you genuinely aren’t head over heels for her too, which honestly, I don’t believe is the case.”

He passed a hand over his face. “Eli… I don’t even know where to begin…”

“Don’t tell me off for it,” she told him fiercely. “I’m not sorry. And I’m not keeping it a secret from Bill, as soon as he’s healed up I’ll tell him. It’s his choice if he wants anyone else to know.” Eli jerked a thumb over her shoulder, to where Tonks was still deep in discussion with Mrs. Weasley. “At Christmas she asked me if you were still in love with my mum. And she was afraid I’d take issue with it too. But that’s just not the case. Dad… I want you to be _happy_. You’re…lighter around her, I swear I’ve never seen you smile like you do at her…”

To her own surprise, Eli choked up a bit as she talked, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “A-and if anyone deserves to have a little more happiness in their life, it’s you. I want that for you, dad, I really do. Just…don’t turn her down outright, please? Give it a chance.”

Remus let out a long, slow breath, his eyes closing for a moment. “You…genuinely think you’ve improved it? Truly, Eli?”

It wasn’t the question she’d expected, but she nodded all the same.

“I just…” He looked so vulnerable as he stole a glance at Tonks, something soft and fearful crossing his face before he tore his eyes from her. “She deserves better, far better than me… I have nothing to offer her.”

“She _deserves_ what her heart wants,” Eli argued back. “Clearly she loves you. What more can a someone ask for than the person they love?” She twisted her fingers into her shirt and thought of George, of what she’d give to have him with her in that moment. “The rest doesn’t matter… As long as it doesn’t matter to her…”

A gentle smile crept up on his face. “Just like it doesn’t matter if you’re a Slytherin and he’s a Gryffindor, and historically you ought to hate each other? Is that what you’re thinking?”

Eli’s cheeks warmed. “Shut it.”

With a knowing look, he pulled her into his arms and murmured, “Three days, you said? That’s when you head up north?”

“Yes.”

Remus sighed and leaned back, his hands on her shoulders as he conceded, “Then in three days’ time, you let me know what you’ve figured out, and I’ll go from there, all right. I just…need a moment to compose myself, that’s all. There’ll be the funeral, and the fallout from this will be immense… But afterwards…”

For the moment, it was enough. So Eli nodded and embraced him again, closing her eyes and letting her worries melt away for just a few precious minutes.


	23. Plans Set in Motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a little late!!! It's been hectic - and it probably will be hectic for a little longer, BUT the good news is I have a head start on the next chapter. And, stunningly, there are only SEVEN chapters left after this one! I'm freaking out to be honest! I love Eli, and telling her story has been such a journey for me - but it does have a closing point. I hope you all enjoy where I take it. As always, thank you so so much to the people who have reviewed/left kudos/bookmarked, it means the world to me!

Dumbledore’s funeral was held on the grounds. Eli sat with one hand tight in George’s and the other resting on her father’s back—he’d explained how much Dumbledore had done for him, how the Headmaster had been the only reason he’d been able to get an education, met James and Sirius and her mother, why he had _any_ prospects in his life at all…

Wizards came from far and wide just to pay their respects. It was one thing to know, intellectually, that Dumbledore had made an enormous impact on the wizarding world—but another thing entirely to witness it, to see the masses that flocked just to say their goodbyes. A handful she recognized, even from trips to Diagon Alley and the previous summer she’d spent in the twins’ flat. _Their_ flat, she supposed.

From George’s other side, she heard Simon sniffle faintly, and Fred murmur something comforting. She was glad they’d all come. It would’ve been difficult to handle without her best friends nearby.

Despite her father’s agreement, he hadn’t protested when Tonks sat beside him and threaded her fingers between his, and it touched Eli’s heart with just a bit of warmth to see. McGonagall was right—Dumbledore would be glad to see more happiness and love in the world, would’ve appreciated Remus moving on and finding someone rather than clinging to memories of her mother, a witch who had died so long ago. And the very next day…she was going to meet with Mr. Scamander. The world, it seemed, would keep on turning despite the loss. So Eli would let it do just that, she would fight and push and refuse to back down, no matter what.

George’s fingers tightened on hers, and Eli looked up at him, finding it in herself to smile faintly. “You’ll be back for dinner, won’t you?” he asked her quietly. Somehow he’d already known whatever was keeping her late originally still stood, regardless of Dumbledore’s passing.

Eli dipped her head. “I ought to be. But I’ll let you know if not.”

Simon peeked around George, eyes red around the edges but remarkably dry. He was holding it in well. “Where are you going, Eli?”

She looked out over the lake, eyes unfocused. “I have a meeting. A very important one.”

When Simon opened his mouth to question her again, Fred cut him off. “C’mon, Simes. Let Eli have her secrets. She’ll tell us when she gets back, right?”

“Cross my heart,” Eli swore. And she did mean it. After this it’d all be in the open anyway.

“Well, you’d better,” Simon told her fiercely. “Then we’ll all get bloody plastered, because we damn well deserve it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Eli saw Remus’s lips quirk up, just a bit.

“You don’t drink,” Fred pointed out.

Simon huffed and crossed his arms. “Well I just might now, after all this. Merlin knows we’ve all been through too much.”

“Ah, keep your wits about you,” Remus advised, finally dropping the pretense that he wasn’t listening in. “Getting drunk isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, Simon, I can promise you that. You’ll only feel worse.”

He considered that a moment, before shrugging. “Fine. I’m raiding the shop, then.”

Eli fought a grin as the twins replied indignantly, telling him off for _‘robbing them,’_ while exchanging a mirthful look with her father. Yes, she was _so_ glad they’d come. Only those three could make her smile on a day like that.

After the funeral, Eli saw Remus and Tonks off—they were still attached at the hand—before heading out past the gates with the boys. It was time.

\--

Eli appeared just below a grassy cliff, on a beautiful flat beach, a bit disoriented and dizzy. But such was the case of Apparating somewhere one had never been before. It always mucked the head up a bit. She couldn’t find any other good transportation to the remote location, though, so there hadn’t been much of a choice.

Eoropaidh was beautiful, really. Well, this far-north tip of it. She was outside the actual town, virtually the middle of nowhere, looking for some kind of grey and white tent, according to Mr. Scamander’s letter. Eli glanced at the sand beneath her black boots, wrinkling her nose in distaste—she hated wearing shoes in the sand. At least she’d had the sense not to wear bloody heels, otherwise she would’ve been in a bit of a tight spot.

Pushing hair out of her face, Eli set off down the beach, rounding a little rock formation as she searched. And there, tucked in the shadow of the cliff, was a tent that looked scarcely big enough to house one person. Naturally it would be extended, but even so, she was anxious of it. What if it was really a muggle’s tent?

“You won’t find us in there!” someone called from behind her.

Eli turned to see a rather wizened old man and woman, both sporting bright silver hair. The woman had a bag slung around her, which was bulging with a sort of wriggling…something… While the man was grinning and holding a long, translucent eel-like creature. His trousers were rolled up to his knees, and he was padding through the sand with the ease of a man perhaps seventy years his junior. “Sorry about the mess,” Newt Scamander apologized, in an aged yet vibrant tone. “You must be Eli Lupin, yes? We ran a bit late, my apologies…”

“No, _you_ ran a bit late,” his wife, Porpentina, chided fondly. “He gets so caught up in his creatures, you know.”

She did know—his book was required reading for every Hogwarts student. Only a man who truly, deeply cared about magical creatures would have the patience and dedication to write a book like that. “It’s all right,” she reassured them both. They were charming, very kind and open—she liked them already.

Mr. Scamander tucked the eel-creature into Mrs. Scamander’s bag and wiped his hands on his trousers. “I’d shake your hand, but, well…” He wiggled his fingers. “Not my best idea. Come on in, then.”

Eli followed them inside, pleased to see the interior had been nicely extended, furnished with a full kitchen and bathroom, and what appeared to be two bedrooms offshooting from the drawing room. It was slightly dated, certainly, but had its own charm all the same. She was going to kick the sand off her boots, but the Scamanders merely tracked wet sand across the floor as though they were used to the elements being inside their dwelling, so Eli abandoned that in favor of stepping inside and letting the flap shut behind her.

“Please, sit down, sit down!” Mr. Scamander encouraged. “Tina, love, will you put those with the rest? I’ll put on a bit of tea for Miss Lupin and myself while you’re at it.”

Shaking her head in amusement, Mrs. Scamander headed off with her writhing bag into one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind her. With her gone, though, a touch of nerves hit Eli—she was really going to do this. And, honestly, it was rather wild to be standing in a room with _the_ Newt Scamander, the most famous magizoologist… But she curbed the starstruck feeling, squashing it down hard. This wasn’t a time for that.

Eli settled into an armchair, watching as Mr. Scamander absently flicked his wand, setting up a tea tray and floating some biscuits out of a nearby tin, somehow finding time to wash his hands quickly before he brought everything over and set it down on the table.

“Now… I must say…” Mr. Scamander gave her a curious look. “You are quite a determined young woman, Miss Lupin. Very passionate. Or else my grandson wouldn’t have passed on your message.”

She nodded. There was no sense in hiding it—Eli absolutely felt passionate about this.

“I have to ask you, is it merely because of your father, or is there another reason you feel so strongly about the register?” He poured her a cup of tea first, and then himself, dropping two sugar cubes in and stirring without even looking. He was just so…focused on her, trying to read her intentions, she felt.

“At first it was mostly my dad,” Eli explained, crossing her legs. “I thought werewolves had a poor lot in life from the moment I learnt about them, but… It did become more of a personal issue when I learnt who my father is, and that he’s a werewolf himself.” To his inquiring look, she explained, “I thought I was muggleborn for most of my life—a few years ago, I discovered that wasn’t the case. Since then I dropped my old surname and took up my father’s, which was my original legal name.”

Mr. Scamander gave her quite a brilliant smile. “It’s good to see you’ve no prejudice against lycanthropes—though oftentimes I find those who grew up in the muggle world are less inclined to carry the same bias that other wizards do.”

“There’s more, though…” She tugged the collar of her shirt over to expose the still-tender scar from Greyback. “A werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, attacked me at Christmastime… I was lucky, he only caught me with a claw, but it was on the full moon and I didn’t know if he’d bitten me or not, so I…” Eli swallowed hard, averting her gaze. “I had a rough night, to say the least. Even now, it aches on the full moon. It really served to…put things in perspective, I think, to endure just a little bit of what lycanthropes go through every month. That’s really what spurred me into action.”

He steepled his fingers and regarded her for a moment, thoughtfully. “I can’t say I know what it feels like. However… I respect your intentions. I would love to see the register updated, improved, and yet… None of my past attempts have done any good.”

Eli withdrew two sheets of parchment she’d tucked into her Healer’s bag—which she wore all the time, after the attack on Hogwarts—and laid them out on the table. “I think…I might have some ideas on how to actually enact those changes. Not on my own, granted, but regardless…” She gestured to the first of the sheets. “I wrote down some ideas here. Nothing that concrete yet, I’ll admit, but I was thinking of removing an employer’s ability to consult the register, for example. And perhaps incentives to register, for lycanthropes who want to exist in society—safe places to transform, Wolfsbane, things like that. If it can’t be removed, then at least it could be used for some genuine good.”

“That’s a brilliant thought,” Mr. Scamander admitted, peering down at the parchment. “And… Now, what’s this? It looks like the recipe for Wolfsbane, but… I’ve never seen it written like this before.”

She licked her lips nervously. “That’s because it hasn’t been done like that before, sir. Not until I did it, at least. See, I… I’ve always been very good with potion-making, ever since my first year at Hogwarts. I even invented potions of my own. So I thought to perhaps…try and improve upon Damocles’ work. Just recently I actually had a breakthrough, and this is the result.”

His eyes had gone very wide. “Do you mean to tell me…you’ve _improved_ the Wolfsbane Potion, Miss Lupin? Do you recognize what an achievement this is? The potions community has been attempting to alter that recipe since its inception, but no one’s had a lick of success.”

Eli did know. It was part of why she’d hesitated so much in releasing that information to anyone—Damocles was a household name to anyone even slightly curious about the world of potion-making. She could do the very same thing with her own name, if her experiment truly proved successful. Not to mention if she was right about the effect it’d had on Bill, the potential to lessen the symptoms if given in a certain timeframe after a werewolf bite… “It took a lot of work,” she admitted quietly.

“I’m sure, but to even _succeed_ , I…” He shook his head in disbelief. “Have you tested this? I believe most often the issue stems from turning the potion toxic, yes? How did you avoid that?”

She pointed at a single line in the list of ingredients. “A muggle’s flair. Cacao, to open the blood vessels and carry it through the system quicker. With that and increased essence of dittany to counteract any damage as it happens…” Eli wrung her hands. “I sort of tested it, on a friend who was bitten by a werewolf, not on the full moon. It seemed to…force the infected blood out of him, and helped to heal the wounds too, when usually you can’t heal werewolf bites for ages.”

Mr. Scamander picked up the recipe and scanned it, furrowing his brow as he read it. Eli was mostly impressed a man of one-hundred-years could read her tiny handwriting without glasses, to be honest. “This would…make an enormous difference, I think,” he told her carefully. “But I must warn you, Miss Lupin… It will place you in the spotlight. Is that something you’re prepared for? You would be the champion of this. I’ll offer my support, however I can, but at the end of the day it will be _you_ the community focuses on. You must be aware of that before you go leaping headfirst into this. It isn’t merely social but political as well, the Ministry will fight the changes, of that I have no doubt.”

“I know,” she reassured him quietly. “I don’t… _want_ the spotlight, necessarily, but I’ll take whatever people want to throw at me, so long as I get results.”

“Well, then.” He leaned back and smiled at her wryly. “We have quite a fight ahead of us, Miss Lupin.”

“Eli,” she corrected, in a snap decision. But if they were to be partners…

That made him grin and bob his head, visibly pleased by it. “Then call me Newt, _Eli_.” Mr. Scamander— _Newt_ stuck out a hand, clean this time, thankfully, and Eli shook it without hesitation. Oh, she had _such_ a good feeling about this.

\--

When Eli returned to the flat above the twins’ store, she immediately sat the boys down and told them everything, minus the part about her semi-testing the new and improved Wolfsbane Potion on Bill. It had all been in the heat of the moment, a desire to save him from pain, and she still felt a bit guilty over it. Hopefully that would ease once she told Bill himself.

“Blimey,” Simon breathed, when her tale was through. “I can’t believe you talked with _the_ Newt Scamander! And you’re going to work with him!”

Fred cocked an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t know you were so…into magizoology,” he observed.

Simon shook his head, though, looking rather exasperated. “I’m not. But he’s an _amazing_ artist, see, he did all the drawings in _Fantastic Beasts_. I used to practice by copying his drawings when I was just a kid.”

“And you don’t think he’s got any…y’know…hang-ups about werewolves?” George asked curiously. “Since he _did_ create the register.”

“Not a chance. He was really, genuinely interested in helping me. Said he feels awful what’s happened to the register, but until I came around, he had no idea how to go about fixing it.” Eli couldn’t help but preen a little bit at that—how she’d already been a turning point in this whole issue. “Now I just need to test and finalize the potion, and once that’s done we can start working on a real plan.” A full movement was still a while away—but Eli still burned with excitement underneath her skin.

Simon beamed and reached across the table to ruffle her hair, earning a sneer. “Well, we’re all proud of you, Eli. And—I’m just gonna speak for these two idiots—we’ll help you however we can, all right?”

“Thanks, Simes,” Fred grumbled. But he smiled up at Eli anyway. “He’s right, though.”

“Bloody right,” George agreed emphatically.

Eli spent the next month and a half writing Newt back and forth at least once a week, as she worked on how exactly she’d ask her father to be a legitimate test subject, how she’d dare ask him to risk a full transformation. Simon took over writing up her recipe, under Eli’s hawk-eyed stare to ensure he transcribed it properly. He had the best penmanship, though, without question, so she had him copy it down three times—one for her own records, one for distribution, and one to be magically copied as soon as she’d gotten Remus’s approval.

Just before Eli’s birthday in July—her nineteenth, which made her feel rather strange to be in the last year she had as a teenager—she received a cryptic letter from Remus, asking her to meet him in a tiny, specific town in the north of Scotland. George suggested he go, in case something was wrong, but Eli refused. After all, she knew he’d alert her somehow if anything was amiss. So on July eighteenth, to the boys’ displeasure, she Apparated up to the location he’d specified, wary and confused but willing to trust him all the same.

Remus’s note had asked her to come find him at this local tavern—well, he called it a tavern. But when Eli found the place, she discovered it was more of an inn, with a little garden out back sporting a tiny fountain and a flowerbed. Rather quaint, really. She had tucked her wand inside her coat, since she didn’t know if it was a muggle town or not, and upon walking into the tavern she put her hand on it, just in case.

Yet the moment she walked in, she spotted Tonks—easy to see, by the bubblegum pink hair atop her head—sitting beside Remus in a quiet corner, their heads close together as they talked quietly. Eli crossed to them hurriedly, smiling when Remus’s face lit up. He rose and embraced her, a bit tighter than usual, and Eli got the feeling something rather…serious was going on. Not bad, but…regardless.

“I’m sorry to be so cryptic,” he apologized quickly, pulling her down into the seat beside him. “It’s all been…” A sideways glance at Tonks, whose face was flushed. “…rather fast, you see.”

Eli looked between them a moment, considering what they might be getting at. Then it clicked. “Oh my god,” she breathed, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Are you—are you getting-” She cut off the shriek and managed to whisper, “ _Married_?!”

Tonks bobbed her head, her hair fading towards bright red as she smiled so hugely. “We’ve had to keep it all hush-hush, it’s sort of frowned upon in polite society, you know.”

She quelled a burst of anger at the injustice, seeing as neither looked particularly upset, and instead just nodded. “Of course. So—when are you having the ceremony? Wouldn’t your mum want to be here, Tonks?”

“She would’ve,” Tonks agreed, turning a bit somber. “But with everything that’s happening, I didn’t want her to risk the trip. Which—oh Merlin, Eli, I don’t mean you’re…worth less or something, ooh, I’ve gone and put my foot in my mouth again.” She winced and her hair went a bit pale. “You’re a better fighter, to be honest. My mum doesn’t do any fighting.”

Remus shared a grin with Eli, letting her know he was fully aware she wasn’t offended. “I told Dora you’d have my head if we didn’t ask you along, as well…” Even his cheeks tinged pink then. “And we, er… Needed a witness to sign off.”

Eli felt her jaw drop. “You’re— _today_?”

A little bit of hesitancy crawled over Tonks’s face. “You aren’t—bothered or anything, are you? I’d never try to be your mum or anything, that isn’t… I mean…” She visibly shook herself. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or what have you, that’s all.”

“Oh, no, no,” Eli nearly laughed, stunned. “My dad’s happy and that’s what I care about. Honestly. Besides, Mrs. Weasley is basically my mum at this point, she’s been my wizarding-world-mum for years now. I don’t think I need anyone else to fill that role, she does it perfectly.” Not to mention Eli was dating one of her sons… But that was neither here nor there. “No, honestly, I’m so bloody happy for you. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

Remus squeezed Tonks’s shoulder comfortingly. “See, I told you, Dora, Eli’s not fussed about that sort of thing. She’s the one who convinced me to open up, anyway.”

Eli gave him a pointed look. “You’re right, though, I would’ve skinned you alive if you didn’t bring me in on this. But is there…” She searched their faces for answers. “Y’know, a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor won’t be able to lie to a Slytherin. Why don’t you just tell me the rest now, and save us a load of time.”

“I’m pregnant,” Tonks blurted, earning a look of shock from Remus. “Sorry, Remus, I just—she’s right, we can’t lie to her.”

For a moment, Eli only heard buzzing in her head—and then a wide grin broke over her face. “I _knew_ something else was going on!” She reached across and grabbed Tonks’s hand, squeezing firmly and beaming at her. “That’s wonderful, honestly, it really is.”

Remus could only summon a faint smile, though. “I’m still concerned about…well…”

“I think steak is disgusting when it’s cooked rare,” Eli interrupted, giving him an exasperated look. “Honestly, dad, I’d think I’m proof enough that you’ve nothing to worry about.”

“Oh he’d be far worse if it weren’t for you,” Tonks laughed.

Eli watched them share a private little smile and felt a swell of happiness inside her. What she’d told Tonks before was true—if she’d grown up around Remus, known him as her father through her formative years, perhaps known her mother…then it might well feel strange, to see this. But with the circumstances as she’d lived them, she only felt delight, joy, could only be ecstatic for the connection they’d found. And she had scarcely seen her father so happy since she’d known him. Yes, this was absolutely a wonderful thing, for the both of them—and Eli, after spending her whole life as an only child, was a bit excited about the idea of having a younger sibling.

Across the room, Eli saw a man step into the doorway and give a single, pointed nod to Remus. “It’s time,” he murmured, looking over at Tonks anxiously.

They left the table as a group and moved into the back garden, Eli trailing the two of them, giving them just enough space to feel polite. She didn’t want to intrude—it was a delicate situation, after all, so new… And Tonks was still anxious of her reactions to things, which, although unnecessary, was completely understandable.

Just before the man—some form of magical officiant, Eli presumed—began the ceremony, Eli quickly conjured a little bouquet of flowers for Tonks, small enough to be unassuming, with sprigs of baby’s breath and lilacs, and a red rose at the center. Her own little touch, to show her support.

It was short, but sweet and beautiful all the same, if only for the way Remus and Tonks looked at each other. Eli wondered, feeling a bit sappy, if she and George looked like that. She’d never quite considered marriage before…especially not in these times… And yet… Seeing this, just the small, personal moment, the way they both seemed lighter with the connection, Eli felt a tiny spark of longing flicker to life in her chest.

Afterwards, Eli signed as their witness, noticing that Tonks had taken her father’s surname—which was incredibly sweet—and their officiant hurried off into the night. Eli quickly grabbed Tonks in a hug, before the other woman could perhaps shy away from it, and murmured, “Welcome to the family.”

She noticed, when she pulled back, that Tonks’s eyes were glimmering with tears too.

“Listen, I’m going to leave you to it, all right?” Eli told them, looking over at the rising crescent moon. “I just… Dad…can I ask you something?” She hadn’t intended to do it—but once the words were out, Eli knew it was better. If she didn’t just go for it, she’d never ask.

He nodded. “Of course, love.”

Eli met his gaze, trying to feel unafraid as she asked him, “I…think I’m set on the version of Wolfsbane I modified. And it’s nothing I want to ask you to do, in case I’m wrong, which is a distinct possibility, but… At the next full moon…”

Remus glanced sideways at Tonks, but her gaze was steady. “I trust you,” he told her gently. Eli remembered him saying the same thing when she’d agreed to brew Wolfsbane for him the first time, nearly four years ago at this point, recalling how unbelievable it was that he’d put his trust in a fifteen-year-old to look after him… That was when they only had the faintest inkling of their connection, before so, _so_ many things had changed… But this, his constant presence in her life, had never changed. His trust had never faltered.

She only hoped she wouldn’t let him down this time.

“It should only be a single dose,” she explained, though she’d said it before. It couldn’t hurt to reiterate. “Since it’s only experimental you’ll want to take precautions… I’ll arrange with Madame Pomfrey to have the day after off, too, in case you need me to stop by.”

“Thank you,” Tonks murmured, genuinely.

Remus reached out and embraced Eli, pulling her in close, almost fiercely, and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll see you at the next mission, all right? Stay safe.”

Eli stretched onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “You too, dad.” She hugged Tonks too, earning a bright grin—and then Disapparated, appearing in the kitchen and startling Simon so badly he flung his sandwich clear across the room.

“Bloody hell, Eli!” he grumbled, drawing his wand and flicking it at the fallen sandwich. “You could’ve knocked.”

She smirked. “Oh, where’s the fun in that, though?”

He rolled his eyes and nudged past her, heading for the sink to deposit his now useless plate. “So, what did Remus want? Why’d he call you up to the middle of nowhere?”

Eli hesitated then. Should she tell? Probably better to wait until Remus and Tonks got to say it themselves… “None of your business. Though you’ll find out later, I should think. Anyway, it wasn’t bad or what have you, he just needed a favor, that’s all. Easy. And…” This would distract him, surely. “He agreed to test out my version of Wolfsbane.”

“Excellent.” Simon grinned and leant into the counter. “See, I told you he’d do it. Thinks the world of you, he does.”

“I’m still nervous, you know,” she confided quietly. “It’s one thing to make a potion that’s just to help someone and hasn’t got anything…well…poisonous in it. But Wolfsbane is delicate, half the damn ingredients are some level of toxic, and you’ve got to worry about things which would injure a werewolf but not a human as well…”

But he waved his hand at her. “Oh, come off it, Eli. You’re a complete genius with potions and you know it. Besides, didn’t you say the dose would be too small to do any real damage?”

“Well…yes,” she admitted. “Even so, I-”

“So that’s it, then. It’ll be just fine, you’ve nothing to worry about. And I mean…blimey… If this actually _works_ , you’ll be ruddy famous for improving the Wolfsbane Potion.” Simon grinned widely. “My best friend, the famous potion-maker.”

“Eli’s gonna be famous?” Fred asked curiously as he walked in. “Excellent. Don’t forget us little folk, though.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I doubt I’ll be famous, honestly. It’s a modification, not a revolutionary potion… I haven’t even tested it yet. Besides, I couldn’t have done any of it without Damocles’ original recipe.”

Fred crossed the room and draped his arms over Simon from behind, resting his chin on the brunet’s shoulder. “So? It’s still innovative. I mean, Georgie and I haven’t exactly invented everything we sell in the shop—plenty of it we’ve just improved on. Sometimes that’s enough, y’know? If you can completely overhaul it, make it easier, more affordable, more convenient… Then that’s bigger than just creating it in the first place. I mean, half the time that bloody potion’s useless because of the cost, right?”

“It is,” Eli sighed, nodding. The cost was what made Wolfsbane so prohibitive, requiring aconite, silver, moonstone… Not to mention essence of dittany which could be difficult to come by in certain parts of the world.

“So if you can actually make it _accessible_ , that changes the whole game.” He grinned and added, “Don’t be so hard on yourself all the time. You’re doing some great stuff.”

Eli felt her cheeks warm up as Simon nodded his agreement, but she didn’t argue anymore. There was no point, when those two took up a united front. She was always grateful Fred had actually given Simon a chance—they had a really good thing going. “So, where’d George get off to? I thought he’d be tearing down the door trying to make sure nothing bad happened.”

“Oh, he’s downstairs trying to fix the damn door again,” Fred sighed.

“Wait, you lot still haven’t managed to get it unlocking properly?” Naturally, they had a magical lock on their storefront—which had been malfunctioning recently. Everyone’d had a go at fixing it, and after George’s last attempt, it had started behaving better… Or so she’d thought.

Simon gave a beleaguered sigh. “Started up again the other day. I suggested we ask somebody to rig us up something new, but nobody wanted to hear it.”

Of course, with how stubborn the twins were they’d want to stand by their own poorly-functioning lock. “I could ask Tonks to take a look at it before the wedding. She’s an Auror, she might actually have some expertise in this sort of thing.”

Ah, the wedding. Bill and Fleur were getting married at the end of the summer—right after the next Order mission. Or, as Fred had taken to calling it, _Operation: Spectacles_. They were going to be moving Harry from his aunt and uncle’s house, for the protection afforded by Lily Potter’s sacrifice would run out the moment he came of age. Mad-Eye Moody was determined that the Ministry had been infiltrated, which, honestly, Eli wouldn’t be surprised by, and therefore the Order was handling it themselves, laying false trails and doing everything they could to keep him safe. The wedding was only five days after the mission, which felt very… _close_ , to Eli. Especially since Bill and Fleur were both involved in the mission. Still, Harry’s protection was breaking no matter what, so they had to do _something_.

“We’ll see,” Fred grumbled, giving Simon a withering look.


	24. Operation: Spectacles, and its Many Shortcomings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm right on schedule with this one, or thereabouts - which I'm REALLY proud of because this chapter has been around for a bit, but it needed a major rewrite and the last few sentences just refused to work for ages and ages. So I'm really excited to have finally finished it! As always, please enjoy!

Looking round, Eli couldn’t help but feel oddly nostalgic. Little Whinging was rather similar to the neighborhood she’d grown up in, the cookie-cutter houses and meticulously-pruned flowerbeds. It was a strange reminder of the life she’d left behind.

“You all right?” George asked her curiously, touching her shoulder.

Eli nodded. Nostalgia was one thing—but she didn’t _miss_ her old life. She was infinitely happier in her new family, with the people she’d chosen to surround her.

“Right,” Mad-Eye growled, setting off through the garden and trodding on some bushes. “No more hanging around. Let’s get inside.”

Moments later, the back door was flung open and Harry appeared, silhouetted by the light but grinning all the same. Hermione managed to get in a hug before Mad-Eye ushered them all inside, grumbling about being too exposed outside where anyone could see them. So the rather ragtag band headed inside, Eli staying until everyone else had gotten in before closing the door behind her. After all, she had one job in this mission—looking after everyone else.

“I thought you were looking after the Prime Minister, Kingsley?” Harry asked curiously, once they’d all convened in the sitting room.

Kingsley gave him a steady look. “You’re more important. The Prime Minister will be just fine without me for a night.”

Tonks’s eyes were bright as she gripped Remus’s hand and announced, “Since you’re all here, we figured it was the best time to say it, for anyone who hasn’t heard…” Her cheeks flushed. “Remus and I got married!”

There was a general clamoring of excitement, though Eli noted they didn’t let on about Tonks’s pregnancy—likely because she wouldn’t have been allowed on the mission, otherwise. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t worry her, but then again, that was why the Order’s resident Healer-in-training had come along. In fact, her father had specifically written her the other day asking if she had any ideas on extra protection for Tonks, to which Eli had responded with a piece of amethyst charmed for protection. Hopefully Tonks had that on her now.

Eli crossed the room to stand near Bill, who she hadn’t actually seen since the attack—the summer had just been too busy. Thus far, his wounds had healed up rather nicely. Well, as nicely as they could, being werewolf bites. He would carry the scars forever, but at least they weren’t permanent open wounds. “How are you feeling?” she asked him softly. “Any pain leftover?” There was a lingering sense that he was still her patient, given that she’d been the first to try and heal him that night.

Bill grinned rather gamely. “It’s been fine, actually, since the damned thing healed. I’ll be looking to repay the favor, though. Greyback did a number on me, for sure.” Greyback had—somehow—managed to escape that night, in the chaos. She sensed the werewolf would be looking for a little payback of his own on _her_ , if he got the chance.

“Oh, hush,” Fleur laughed, catching his arm and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You are still beautiful to me, Billy.”

Remus cracked a grin at her. “Just remember, Fleur, once you’re married—Bill takes his steak on the raw side now,” he teased, a rare moment of levity regarding _anything_ lycanthropic. It was nice to see him feeling better.

“My husband, the ruddy joker,” Tonks snickered, nudging his side.

“All right, that’s enough,” Mad-Eye growled irritably. “We’ll have plenty of time for the cozy little catch-up later. We need to get the hell out of here.” He jabbed a finger towards Harry. “Potter. You’ve still got the Trace on you, seeing as you’re underage. Means no magic on your way out. So we’re using what we can, brooms, thestrals, the like, so the Ministry doesn’t get a nice little alert to what’s going on tonight.”

Kingsley nodded solemnly. “We’ve been laying fake trails at the Ministry, trying to get word around that you’re leaving on the thirtieth, instead of tonight. Hopefully you-know-who takes the bait.”

“But we can’t run the risk of that bein’ wrong.” Mad-Eye pulled a flask from inside his coat and gestured around the room with it. “We’ll be leaving in pairs. That way if anything _is_ out there waiting…they won’t know which Harry Potter is the real one.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “The _real_ one? Hang on, you can’t mean…”

But Mad-Eye just stared him down. “I believe you’re familiar with this particular brew, aren’t you?”

Eli winced as something thunderous came over Harry’s face. “No!” he shouted, incensed. “Absolutely not, no way!”

“I told you he wouldn’t take it well,” Hermione sighed.

“If you think I’m gonna let anyone risk their lives for me that way-”

Ron scoffed at him. “Like it’s the first time.”

Harry gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides. “But it’s different. Taking that, actually _becoming_ me… No. That’s too dangerous, I’m not letting anybody do that.” He shook his head fiercely. “You’d be too much of a target.”

“Well, it’s not like any of us really fancy it, mate,” Fred observed wryly.

George smirked. “Yeah, imagine if something went wrong and we got stuck as scrawny, specky gits forever.”

Eli exchanged a rather frustrated look with Simon. _Because he’ll take humor much better._

“Everyone here is of age, Potter. They’ve all agreed to take the risk,” Mad-Eye told him dryly, unperturbed.

“It’s no use if I don’t cooperate,” Harry tried, a bit futilely. “You need my hair for this and if I don’t let you…”

But Mad-Eye snapped his fingers. “All right, Granger, as discussed.”

In moments, Hermione had swept round behind Harry and yanked out a few of his hairs, too fast for him to react, and carried her bounty over to Mad-Eye. She’d agreed to do it, offered in fact—knowing Harry wouldn’t expect it of her at all. That was why she’d sat right beside him, after all. They had plotted out every bit of the plan well in advance.

“Blimey, Hermione!” Harry hissed, wincing and rubbing the back of his head.

With the hairs added, Mad-Eye ordered everyone who had agreed to be a pseudo-Potter to line up by the kitchen island, which they did. Ron, Hermione, Fleur, the twins, and Simon had all stepped up for the task, the latter to everyone’s surprise. But Simon had felt a bit differently about his involvement in the Order after the attack on the Burrow that year—he’d been on holiday with his aunt and his sister then, and confided once in Eli that he felt guilty for not being there. Since then, he’d made a serious effort to be actively a part of the Order. This was just…the culmination of all that. He had volunteered to take a very reluctant Mundungus Fletcher’s place in the mission, stepping up when the other wizard expressed his marked distaste for being included.

“What if something does go wrong?” Harry posited, glancing to and fro worriedly. “With any of this…”

Eli raised her hand, getting his attention. “That’s why I’m here. I’m in charge of keeping everyone healthy, monitoring this whole part, the lot of it. I’ll be heading straight to the Burrow as soon as you all leave, so I can be ready in case there are any injuries. We’ve covered for everything as best we can. Mrs. Weasley has some of my kit there too, in case something happens before I get back.”

Both George and Remus had fought bitterly against her plan, her role in the mission—Eli would be leaving on her own, once the others had gone, and flying directly back to the Burrow. She was fast, a good flier, and would be quicker than the rest simply because she was flying by herself. Really, she felt she was in the least danger, but her father and boyfriend had quite stoutly disagreed. In the end, Mad-Eye had shut them up by questioning who exactly would handle injuries if not Eli. They still weren’t happy, though.

While she spoke, Mad-Eye had distributed the potion, and soon enough a grand total of seven Harry Potters stood in the drawing room, all looking around a bit squint-eyed. Eli wrinkled her nose at the sight—it was just _odd_ , seeing that many versions of a person. She still could recall her utter confusion in her fourth year upon entering the Slytherin common room to see Crabbe and Goyle running out…when she’d passed them in the hall not five minutes earlier. The Polyjuice Potion was just disconcerting.

Mad-Eye dumped a sack full of identical clothing out onto the floor and the group began changing, all but Harry himself unconcerned about doing it right there. Eli supposed it was hard to feel self-conscious about a body that wasn’t even your own.

Hermione waved a hand in front of her own face. Well, Harry’s, technically. “Harry, your eyesight is really awful,” she mused.

“Ah, almost forgot.” Mad-Eye dug in one of his enormous pockets and pulled forth a fistful of glasses, all identical to the ones Harry was still wearing. Everyone hurried to grab a pair, since apparently his vision challenges carried over with Polyjuice Potion. Eli couldn’t say she remembered reading that in a textbook—she’d have to make note of it somewhere, in case she needed to know it later.

As the seven Harry Potters were finishing up changing, Mad-Eye nodded and announced, “Right. The pairs will be as follows: Mr. MacKenzie, with me. Arthur and Fred.” He pointed at one of the twins, or at least, who he assumed was one of them.

The twin Eli knew to be Fred—simply from how he stood, to be honest, she did live with them—put on an innocent expression and lied, “I’m George.”

“Then…” Mad-Eye’s magical eye swiveled in the socket, between the twins, and he growled, “Now don’t you go pulling that kind of nonsense with me, boy. This isn’t the time, got it?” He crossed his arms irritably.

Fred grinned and bobbed his head. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Continuing despite the shenanigans, Mad-Eye pointed at George next. “George, you’re with Remus.”

Eli felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders. Across the room, her dad inclined his head faintly—so he’d arranged that. Good. They could keep each other safe, in that case. She smiled at him and mouthed _‘thank you,’_ for his eyes only.

“Miss Delacour will be with-”

“Me,” Bill interjected, lifting a hand. “On a thestral. Fleur doesn’t like flying, see.”

Fleur-Harry gave him a doe-eyed smile that looked ludicrous on Harry’s face, as she tugged the blue sport jacket on and reached out to take his hand.

“Miss Granger and Kingsley.” Eli quite liked that too—Kingsley would take good care of Hermione, and she’d do an excellent job of covering him as well.

Tonks beamed and waved excitedly across the room. “Which leaves you and me, Ron!”

From where he was hunched over, attempting not to bust his head through the ceiling, Hagrid gave Harry an uncertain look. “An’ that leaves you ‘n’ me, Harry, if that’s all right. We’ll be takin’ yer godfather’s motorbike.”

Eli dug her fingers into her palm to avoid letting her expression change. _Sirius’s motorbike._

En masse, they trooped outside, and Eli stepped to her father’s side and clutched his hands tightly in hers. “Please, be careful,” she begged him softly.

He quirked a smile and kissed the top of her head. “I promise.”

Sighing, she grabbed her broom from where she’d left it and gripped it tightly, preparing to leave the moment she could. She’d parted ways with the broom her muggle family had bought her a while back, and the twins had gifted her a new one during the year prior to replace it. That was the one she had now, painted by Simon in dark greens and flashes of silver, with just a touch of gold trim. She trusted it to get her to the Burrow safely.

“Good luck, everyone,” Moody told them, his voice uncharacteristically warm. “On the count of three… One, two…”

Eli mounted her broom and gripped her wand in her right hand, a shudder running through her.

“Three!”

The group lifted off, scattering into the night sky. Eli waited a beat, heart in her throat, hoping nothing would happen…

But then the sky exploded.

Eli kicked off the ground hard, raced upwards and—defying her orders—stunned a Death Eater that was trailing Tonks and Ron before turning and banking right, leaning far over her broom to gather as much speed as possible. She knew she should’ve just gone, but bloody fucking hell, they’d been waiting! Somehow, the Death Eaters had _known_ about their plans! The attack had been an instinct, but now she knew her best option was to get to the Burrow as fast as possible, to be ready for any potential injuries.

Thankfully, her trip was uneventful, though the first part was harrowing as she narrowly skirted underneath the battle, watching spells explode over her head and gritting her teeth against the urge to go flying back and help everyone. But she had her job. Eli wanted to fulfil her task, she _had_ to, because if something happened and she wasn’t there to assist…

She leaned forward even harder over her broom.

\--

In a cloud of dust, Eli touched down at the Burrow and practically stumbled off her broom, as Ginny rushed out to greet her. “Has anyone else gotten back yet?” she asked anxiously, looking towards the house.

“No,” Ginny admitted softly. “We thought dad and Fred would be back by now, but…”

Eli set her jaw. “That’s okay. I was supposed to get back before anyone else, that’s the point, after all. Come on. Let’s get inside—you can help me set up, if you like.” She was trying to be mindful of Ginny’s struggles with feeling useless. Certainly that would be in play, with everyone being out on this dangerous mission and her being stuck at home.

They headed inside and Eli set Ginny to a few tasks—mostly setting things up, even bringing her cauldron out just in case she needed to make something quickly—and they were just arranging a few measuring spoons when there was a bang and roar, the unmistakable sound of an engine.

So Harry, the real one, and Hagrid were back. Eli stayed where she was, hands poised above her kit while Ginny and Mrs. Weasley rushed out to them, but when the four came back inside she could tell nobody had been injured, if only from the rather solemn, unhurried way they were walking. So that was two people, safe. Eli tried to be as grateful for it as she should be, but her chest felt like there were steel bands wrapped around it from her worries for her dad, for the twins, for Simon, for Tonks…for everyone else who was still missing. It was wonderful that Harry and Hagrid were safe, naturally, but the rest of her family was still out there.

While the others talked, she just waited, listening, eyes closed in concentration. Eli couldn’t get emotional, if something happened, she knew that… But if someone was hurt…

The door banged open and Eli’s eyes flew open as her father came in, supporting Harry, only it wasn’t Harry, and there was blood all over his face… She watched, frozen in utter shock, as George became himself again—bleeding from one side of his head.

“Oh my god,” Ginny gasped.

“Eli, quickly, please.” Remus was white in the face, his voice unsteady as he half-dragged George into the house.

That spurred her into action. She leapt up and caught George’s other side, bearing as much of his weight as she could, already racing through what she had to do in her mind. “Get him onto the sofa,” she ordered tersely, letting Harry take over her job as she dropped to her knees beside the sofa and grabbed up a cloth. First she needed to see the damage.

“Oh, my boy,” Mrs. Weasley practically sobbed, hands over her chest.

Eli tipped a cleaning potion out onto the cloth and pressed it to his… _Oh god…_ His ear was gone. His bloody _ear_ was _gone_! While her mind blanked, her hands went on automatically, first sterilizing the wound and then unscrewing a jar of ointment she’d put together for curses and the like. She took another cloth and used that to begin dabbing it on, noticing distantly that her hands were unnaturally steady, as though she had completely separated her mind and body. It was working, at least for this, but she was unsure how it had happened.

Behind her, there was a commotion—and then a yelp from Harry. She shifted on her knees and looked over to see Remus pressing Harry into the wall, gripping his shirt at the collar and pointing his wand right into Harry’s face.

“Dad, calm down,” Eli told him, her voice a bit sharp. “You don’t need to be so harsh about it.”

Ginny shot her a frantic look. “What’s he doing?”

But Remus didn’t take his eyes off Harry’s face. “What creature sat in the corner the first time Harry Potter visited my office?” he demanded loudly.

Harry looked utterly panicked at the question—it wasn’t really fair, in the end. “I— _what_? Are you mad?!”

“What creature?!” Remus snapped, undeterred.

“A—grindylow!” The answer came out suddenly, in a moment of sheer clarity. Eli couldn’t help but be impressed.

Remus sighed wearily and squeezed Harry’s shoulder instead. “I’m sorry. But we’ve been betrayed. They knew you were being moved tonight, somehow they’d learnt our plans. I had to make sure you weren’t an impostor.” His eyes roved to Eli, pained and tense, and she understood instantly. She hadn’t even been _part_ of the battle—she’d been alone the whole time. It would be so, so easy for someone to have taken her place.

“Let me finish this first,” she murmured.

He shook his head. “Eli—you know we need to check, _you_ ought to check…”

But she went rigid all over. “No. That can wait. George can’t.”

“Isn’t that proof enough, Remus?” Mrs. Weasley asked quietly, touching his arm. “You know she’d…”

Eli ignored them as she turned back to George, smoothing his hair and going back to her task. This was part of why she’d left some of her ingredients at the Burrow—so some of it, at least, had been in a closed situation the entire time and therefore couldn’t have been tampered with at all. It bought her the time to finish applying the ointment and bandage where his ear…had been…before Eli felt she could rise and handle this.

Slowly, Remus lifted his wand and pointed it at her, and she mirrored him, noting how pained he looked, as though this was the most difficult thing he’d ever had to do—to _threaten_ her, almost. She couldn’t say she felt differently.

“How did my daughter discover my lycanthropy?” he asked her softly.

Eli felt an unexpected smile tug at her lips. “By recognizing your Wolfsbane Potion you were taking. And then fleeing the room like an arse.” For her part, she added, “And what was my reaction, after I got my head on straight?”

A mirroring smile crept up on his face as well, coupled with a burst of relief. “You told me—quite bluntly—that you weren’t afraid of me. And insisted that I am not dangerous.”

She rushed into his arms and held on tight, her emotions finally catching up with her as tears bloomed behind her eyelids. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” she whispered. “What—what happened to George, how did he…”

“Snape,” Remus sighed, distressed even as he wrapped his arms around her.

A chill curled through her stomach.

“Snape?” Harry sounded incredulous. “He was there?”

Remus stepped back from her and nodded, reluctant. “Yes. His hood fell off during the battle. It was odd…he looked…rather startled when it happened, as though…” But he shook his head, physically pushing the thought away. “It was a curse. Sectumsempra, one of his specialties in school.”

A curse. Eli glanced at George, now bandaged safely and sleeping—or perhaps unconscious from shock. There would be no salvaging that, no regrowth… His ear was well and truly lost.

Mrs. Weasley let out a whimper.

“He’ll be okay,” Eli reassured her gently. “I made sure of it. He’ll have scarring, but he’s not in any danger, I promise.”

There was a flash of light outside, and Remus was the first to react, turning and sprinting outside with his wand drawn. Harry followed him, Ginny close behind, while Eli and Mrs. Weasley stayed inside, Mrs. Weasley apparently completely unwilling to leave George’s side. Through the door, though, Eli could see Remus and Kingsley checking each other’s identities and then discussing what had happened. She could imagine the conversation—wondering how things had gone so wrong, how exactly they had been found out… But it was obvious neither Hermione nor Kingsley were injured, so she merely waited, absently cleaning her tools while she stared outside.

She lost her ability to wait, though, when Ron and Tonks showed up, and Tonks staggered off the broom and into Remus’s arms. Eli hurried outside and took her next embrace, taking the moment to surreptitiously swipe her wand across Tonks’s abdomen.

“I’m fine, Eli,” Tonks reassured her quietly, smiling. “Ron had my back the whole time.”

Eli crossed her arms. “I’ll be the judge of that. But…” She looked up at her dad a bit guiltily. “Later, I think. When we have a little space.”

Moments later, Bill and Fleur landed on a thestral—now visible for Eli, ever since the Department of Mysteries and watching Sirius die—and climbed off, both looking grave but unharmed. They were followed closely by Mr. Weasley and Fred, uninjured as well. Simon and Mad-Eye weren’t back yet, but Eli couldn’t let herself worry, because Fred was looking around curiously.

“So where’s George?” he asked.

Nobody answered immediately, and his face went pale.

Fred took off running, and Eli cursed and chased him down, Mr. Weasley’s footsteps pounding behind her. But by the time she reached the house, Fred had already dropped to his knees beside the sofa and gripped his twin’s hand. She was pleased, at least, to see George had woken up since she’d been outside, looking around a little blearily as he took in the room, where he was… The disorientation was to be expected, though.

“How are you feeling, Georgie?” Fred asked softly, tilting his head to examine the bandage.

George blinked at him slowly. “Saintlike.”

Panic crossed Fred’s face, and he looked up at Eli in shock. “I—come again?”

But George grinned, slowly lifting his free hand, and pointed at the injured side of his head a bit unsteadily. “ _Saintlike_ ,” he repeated. “I’m holey. You see? I’m _holey_ , Fred, get it?”

Eli groaned and pressed her hands over her face.

“Pathetic!” Fred chastised, though color had come flooding back into his face. “Utterly pathetic. The whole wide world of ear-related humor and you go for _holey_. I’m disappointed, I really am.” He sat back on his heels and sighed, squeezing his twin’s hand tighter.”

George just shrugged it off. “Still reckon I’m better looking than you.”

There was a crash outside, and Eli crossed to the door, looking for the source. Mad-Eye and Simon were the only ones still missing—but she couldn’t see them at first. Finally, she spotted a single figure kneeling in the dirt, a broomstick beside them, possibly…possibly broken…

“Simon!” Eli screamed, realizing in a heartbeat that something was very wrong. She abandoned her post and sprinted out, stumbling to the ground and frantically alternating between grabbing at him and checking him for injuries. He just…wasn’t moving. He was breathing, and she couldn’t see any blood, any signs of a curse, but…

Seconds later Fred was there, clutching Simon’s shoulders and shaking him. “Simes. Simes! What happened, talk to me,” he begged, desperation making his voice crack.

The others crowded around—minus George and Mrs. Weasley, who had stayed inside—arriving in time to see Simon lift his tearstained face and whisper just a few awful, unbelievable words. “Mad-Eye’s dead.”

“No,” Mr. Weasley breathed. “You can’t be serious.”

But Simon just nodded. “He s-saved my life… V-Voldemort…came for us first, like he thought he would… At first it was okay, we kept deflecting his attacks, and we were getting away, but he…he can _fly_ now… We lost him round a building, or thought we did, but when we got to the far side…he was waiting for us.” His chest hitched and Eli squeezed his hands tightly. “Mad-Eye pushed me down over the broom, took the curse right in his face… He never stood a chance… And I’m a wretched flier, he bought me time but it took me ages to get back here, to figure out where to go…”

His voice failed and Eli released him to allow Fred to wrap Simon in his arms, one hand pressed to the back of his head as Simon just fell into him.

“Mad-Eye reckoned they’d think he had the real Harry,” Remus murmured, one arm draped around Tonks’s shoulders. “He’s the most skilled Auror, he knew he’d be in danger, but none of us thought…”

Eli dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, fighting off tears. This almost couldn’t have gone any worse. Mad-Eye Moody had _died_ , they’d lost one of their strongest… “How did they know?” she asked hollowly. “How the bloody hell did they know we were doing this tonight? We’ve been so careful…”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Weasley admitted.

But Harry shook his head firmly. “I trust everyone here,” he insisted, looking around and sort of daring someone to argue with him. “With my life. Every single one of you. Understood?”

Remus gave him a faint smile. “Understood,” he agreed.

Touching Simon’s shoulder lightly, Eli murmured, “Come on, let’s get you inside, okay? Fred, will you help him?”

Fred nodded immediately. “C’mon, up you go, Simes.” He practically hauled Simon to his feet and slung an arm around his waist, and began helping Simon inside, talking him through it the whole time.

Eli was trailing them closely at first, but she noticed Harry drifting further and further behind everyone, so instead she dropped back until she was beside him. “It’s not your fault,” she told him quietly. “None of it. And don’t bother denying it—you’re blaming yourself, I can tell. But the reality is, y’know, none of us should’ve been in this position, yeah, but you didn’t _cause_ it. All of this is Voldemort’s fault. You can be angry, we all are, I mean…” She gestured towards the Burrow. “My boyfriend lost his ear, my best friend could’ve died… I’m bloody furious. At _him_ , at _them_. Not you. Okay?”

They paused outside the door, and Eli leaned into the railing, watching as Harry seemed to sort through something mentally. After a moment, he lifted his head and spoke. “I can’t help thinking it is my fault, though. Everyone took all these risks…for me.”

“For our lives, for the whole wizarding world,” Eli corrected gently. “It’s not just about you, Harry. And I don’t mean that unkindly. It’s just true. If he killed you, he wouldn’t stop there.”

He nodded slowly. Then, blurting it out like he might lose his nerve, he admitted, “Something…happened, up there, when Voldemort attacked me.” Harry jerked his head towards where the others had congregated in the drawing room. “I don’t think they’d believe me, but you…you might. I dunno. It sounds completely mad.”

Eli was careful to keep her voice low. “Tell me. I won’t discount you offhand, I swear.”

“I…” He swallowed visibly. “My wand…did magic without me. And I don’t mean I just did it without thinking, I mean…my wand actually moved in my hand and sort of…spat gold flames out when I didn’t do anything to cause it.”

She drummed her fingers on her leg as she thought, really considering that. “So it…acted to defend you? Or to fight Voldemort, do you think?”

He frowned. “To fight him. That’s what it felt like.”

“Well I…” Eli sighed and admitted, “I don’t know a lot about wands, to be honest. It isn’t my specialty. But it wouldn’t _surprise_ me. Ollivander always said that the wand chooses its holder, not the other way around—which tells me they can do plenty of things beyond just…channel magic. I’m not gonna just say, oh, you know, that’s completely impossible, because I don’t believe it is. Besides, all sorts of supposedly impossible bollocks follows you around. This isn’t exactly the most surprising thing.”

That made his shoulders slump in relief. “So you…believe me, then? Honestly?”

Eli grinned. “Harry, I can do wandless fire magic stronger than most people believe is possible to perform without years of practice—and I do it without even _trying_. I recently modified the Wolfsbane Potion, which pretty much _everyone_ in the community thinks is a lost cause at this point. It’d be pretty unfair of me not to believe you.”

“Have you, er…” Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Have you heard that we’re not coming back to Hogwarts this year? Ron and Hermione and me, I mean. We’ve been sort of…trying to tell everyone, but I don’t think they all want to accept it, really.”

She had heard, in passing, largely from Mrs. Weasley suggesting they’d change their minds. “I’ve heard. You know…go for it, honestly. Fred and George dropped out and they’re fine. I mean, it’s not the same situation at all, but regardless the point stands. You have your agenda, the things you need to do, and I think it’s noble, honestly.” It was true—Eli admired the drive, even if she worried. But being worried about him going off to…hunt Voldemort or whatever the ruddy hell he was going to go do, well, that just went without saying. He didn’t need to hear that. Yet she wondered…why was he coming to her with all this? Had he sort of tuned into the would-have-been connection between them?

Harry gave her a rueful look. “Well, you might be the only one.”

“Mrs. Weasley means well,” Eli laughed, nodding. “She’s everyone’s mum. But at the end of the day…you’ve just got to go for what you want, or need to do. The rest of us will be here to keep everybody together.”

He nodded at that, finally cracking a grin and matching her position, leaning into the opposite railing. “Thanks for that.” Harry tipped his head towards the house. “So…George will be fine, right?”

Eli glanced inside, to where Fred and George were cracking jokes, with Simon tucked firmly underneath Fred’s arm, smiling reluctantly now. “He’ll be all right,” she confirmed. “There’s nothing to be done about the ear… You can’t grow it back when it’s been cursed off. But dad got him back in time so I was able to heal him pretty quickly, at least.”

Silence reigned for a moment, and Eli was about to suggest they head inside when Harry spoke up again. “Thank you for…believing in me. Y’know, all last year and everything, with Malfoy…”

She met his eyes in the low light. “Would he have done it?” she asked softly. “Killed Dumbledore, I mean. Do you think he actually would’ve gone through with it?” The question had been eating at her all summer, wondering about her head of house and housemate, people whom she’d really thought she’d known—until quite suddenly she didn’t.

“No,” Harry admitted, sounding world-weary. “Malfoy was going to put his wand down.”

Then it was Snape. The first person to believe in her, the original driving force behind her potion-making… He’d killed Dumbledore outright. Unbreakable Vow or not, she felt the simmering onset of hate deep in her chest. Snape wasn’t the person she’d thought him to be at all. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she told him. “Because that’s the sort of thing that matters in the world.”

“It is,” he agreed solemnly.

Eli pushed aside all the negativity for a moment and grinned a bit ruefully at him. “You realize we would’ve grown up like siblings, if it weren’t for all this? Considering that our dads were such good friends. It’s weird to think about, isn’t it?”

That made him smirk in return, looking a bit lighter then. “Would’ve been different. Better.”

“Yeah, since you grew up with a pretty shite pair of muggles who hated all things magical, and the people I thought were my parents were just under a spell.” Eli snorted, finding it oddly amusing in the moment for some reason. “What a bloody pair we make.”

Now grinning widely, Harry nodded his agreement, and she was glad to see a little life come back into his eyes. “You know, my first year, Hagrid gave me this—this photo album with old photos of my parents, and he’s sort of kept…giving me more to fill it out. Some of them have Remus in them, from when they were all at school together. When I get back…I’ll show you, if you’d like.”

Eli resisted the rather girlish urge to press a hand to her chest. “I’d love that. Thanks, Harry.”

“Oi, Eli!” Fred yelled from inside. “Get your arse in here, we need an opinion!”

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. I’d better go pay attention to them or they’ll get _really_ annoying. But if you need anything, just let me know, yeah? Something to help you sleep or whatever. I’m not going anywhere.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by a sharp, “ _Lupin_! I’m talking to you!”

They both burst out laughing and headed inside together.

\--

Eli did try to sleep, she really did, but she was just too wired. So she went downstairs before dawn and sat on the couch with her feet tucked underneath her, staring out the window at the fields outside. Part of her wondered if losing people would turn commonplace in the coming months, if she’d grow desensitized to the whole thing and just accept the losses…

“You know, it’s not exactly surprising you’ve inherited my poor sleeping habits,” Remus observed softly, as he came down the bottom of the stairs.

She waved at him in greeting, but when she didn’t actually speak, unable to summon up the energy, he frowned and crossed the room to sit beside her. “Is…something the matter, love?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

Eli swallowed dryly. “Today has just been…”

“Hard,” he finished with a nod. “You did incredibly though, you know that, don’t you? I was so proud of you for everything…”

That got her to smile a bit, at least, though it was hesitant. “I did my best.”

“Eli…” Remus sighed and sat back, gathering his thoughts as far as she could tell. She just waited, let him do what he needed to do, and after a moment he sat forward and rested a hand on her knee gently. “I want to be honest with you, because I respect you and I feel that you and I can be fully open with each other.”

She licked at her lips nervously. What was he getting at? But she nodded anyway, interested to hear at the very least.

“I know it’s been your dream for a while…to be a Healer…and I think you’re excellent at it already, but…” Her father gave her a worried look. “Are you…entirely certain that’s what you want anymore? I support it, you’re fantastic with all aspects of the profession, but you just seem so much…happier working with Potions. And your abilities, well, I haven’t seen the equal since Lily Potter, if I’m being honest.”

Eli twisted her fingers into her shirt. She couldn’t say she’d had the exact thought, merely…a growing feeling pressed into the back of her skull, just the strangest sense of not quite belonging. But she’d never paid it any mind, because she was always able to balance both in her life, making potions and working on her Healing abilities as well. Especially now that she’d been experimenting with Wolfsbane, was working up a plan with Newt Scamander… But she’d have to give the duality up if she became a full-time Healer. There just wouldn’t be room for it.

Though she hadn’t spoken up, Remus squeezed her knee and smiled gently at her. “I know how frightening that can be, even thinking to alter your life’s path, but… All I want is for you to be happy, and more and more recently I’ve been afraid if you do this, if you make this your entire focus…you won’t be.”

It took a moment to gather her thoughts. The whole thing was just…so complex, made even more difficult by the war looming, her involvement in the Order… But even though some stubborn part of Eli wanted to fight back, to tell him he was wrong and stick by the choices she’d made… She knew he didn’t mean anything negative by it. So instead, Eli nodded slowly and closed her eyes as she admitted, “I’ve…wondered about it myself. It’s strange… I’ve wanted to be a Healer for years now, and I love it, I love my apprenticeship and the things I can do…”

“But?” Remus prompted.

She opened her eyes and winced a bit sheepishly. “ _But_ at the same time… I adore potion-making and everything that comes with it. And I know I’m good, I don’t mean to show my ego or anything but it’s true. Part of me wonders if maybe that’s where I’m meant to end up.”

“I can’t tell you where you ought to go in life,” he told her, smiling gently. “I can only encourage you to follow what feels right. But I can say…” He squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. “It seems rather a waste of talent, for the young woman who brewed a flawless Wolfsbane Potion at age fifteen to simply…move on from that.”

There was a rustle of fabric near the bottom of the stairs, and Eli looked up to see George standing there leaned against the end of the handrail, holding himself as though he’d been standing there a while. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he laughed, waving a hand. “I’m just eavesdropping.”

Remus shook his head, exasperated and yet smiling. “I don’t suppose it occurred to you this could be a private conversation?” he teased lightly.

“Eh.” He shrugged flippantly. “But I happen to agree, so…”

Eli rolled her eyes at the two of them. “I knew it was a bad idea to let you two bond. Honestly. Now you’ll be having all sorts of conversations behind my back, won’t you?” Secretly though, she was pleased they were getting along—there was such a stereotype of fathers being all overprotective and not getting along with their daughters’ boyfriends, so it was nice to see they were better than that.

With a sly grin that reminded Eli he’d been one of the infamous Marauders, Remus told her, “Absolutely we will.”

She groaned and pressed her hands over her face. “Lovely, just lovely. You know, maybe it’d be better if you two didn’t get along, it might be easier for my sanity.” But she peeked out and grinned at them, so they’d know she wasn’t actually upset.

“Now where would the fun be in that?” Remus asked, laughing and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’d best get back upstairs, though, my wife will notice I’m gone and come chasing after me soon enough, and she…” He glanced sideways and George, and then admitted quietly, “She needs the rest.”

George’s eyes lit up. “Wait—is she…”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh, excellent! Congrats, Remus, that’s fantastic.” He stepped off the stairs and crossed the room to shake her dad’s hand, grinning hugely. “Mum’s going to go mad when she hears, she _loves_ babies. She’ll probably ask you to move in, to be honest.”

Remus dragged a hand through his hair and shrugged, and Eli was surprised to see the uncertainty in his face. “It’s difficult… With everything that’s going on right now…”

But George crossed his arms, frowning down at him. “It doesn’t mean you have to stop living, mate. Besides, Tonks is tough as hell, I’m sure she’s got this handled. Y’know, it’s a happy thing, you should be celebrating, not hiding it from everyone like it’s some deep dark secret. And yeah, I know about the whole stigma—but you have to know by now that nobody feels that way in this family, right? Everyone’s just gonna be excited for you.”

“He’s right, dad,” Eli agreed, nodding. “They’ll all just be happy for you, nothing more. Just…consider it, all right?”

With a sigh, Remus got to his feet and inclined his head. “I’ll think about it.” He turned and headed past George, on his way upstairs—but then he paused, just two steps up, and looked back at them. “I’m glad you two found each other,” he murmured, smiling softly. “Look after each other.”

Eli grinned up at him. “Thanks, dad.”

When he was gone, George sank onto the couch to her other side, as if he felt strange sitting where her father had just been. She didn’t exactly blame him. “So…you knew about Tonks being pregnant, didn’t you?”

“Since their wedding,” she admitted. “Which was…why dad wrote me out of the blue earlier this month. They asked me to be their witness.”

“Blimey, seems like everyone’s getting married these days,” George laughed, shaking his head.

Eli smirked. “It’s starting to feel that way. I mean, part of me understands, though… This is becoming all-out war, and I think with…with the danger, it’s making people just go for what they want, without worrying about the rest.”

He gave her a curious look as he leaned into the back of the sofa, bringing one arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close. “Have you…thought about it?”

A thrill of nerves rushed through her abdomen. “What, getting married?”

George nodded. “Yeah. I mean…it’s hard not to, what with everyone around us suddenly tying the knot.”

He was right, and yet it was difficult for Eli to make herself nod and admit the truth. “It is difficult,” she murmured. “I just… You know, I understand doing it really suddenly if you’ve wanted it before, and you don’t want to risk missing out… But to do it just because of what’s happening, I can’t understand that, to be honest.” That much was true—she couldn’t really fathom the idea of just shotgunning into a marriage when it wasn’t something you’d really wanted before. Bill and Fleur, Remus and Tonks, that had clearly been in their heads before, but she had the sense they’d see more rapid-fire weddings before the war ended. Ones that wouldn’t have happened otherwise.

“Ugh, you have a point,” he admitted, wrinkling his nose. “That’s a bit over the top, just grabbing someone and getting married based on nothing.” As he spoke, his fingers twisted lightly into a few of her curls, making her smile at the subconscious gesture. “I only wondered, that’s all. Because, I mean…” George looked up and met her eyes. “I’ve thought about it. You should know that, Eli. But you and I, we aren’t…one-sided. We never have been. And I wouldn’t ever want to make a decision like that without you, love.”

Eli bit her lip and looked away, her heart lodged firmly in her throat. Was he…sort of asking her to… But surely not, they were only having a discussion about it, weren’t they, not actually considering it… They’d never even mentioned it before, not in passing, not even said the word once, god. “I haven’t—I mean—have you been…” She struggled for the words. “…thinking about this? Genuinely?”

“I dunno, I mean…” He grinned sheepishly. “I guess so. But like I said…it’s not just my decision, is it?”

She found she just couldn’t meet his gaze. “I—I don’t know, George… Honestly, I don’t. At least, at this point in time, it’d feel so much like…like just falling into line because everyone else is doing it. I don’t think that’s the right motivation, that’s all.”

“See, this is what I love about you,” George told her amiably, not at all bothered by what could look like her turning him down outright. “Us Gryffindors, we just run headfirst into whatever takes our fancy. It’s in our nature. But you actually think everything through, so you don’t do something stupid and come out looking like a total prat.”

“So…you’re saying it was stupid?” she asked, feeling strangely…injured by the thought.

George waved a hand at her. “No, nothing like that. I just mean I tend to sort of…jump at things without really thinking, and you rein me in.”

“I just…” Eli sighed roughly and looked across the room, searching for something else to hold her attention instead of his earnest face. “I don’t like it, that’s all. I don’t want to feel like I’m just following what everyone expects us to do. If we did that, George, if we got married… Everyone would smile and wipe their eyes and say, _well, they know they might not get to do it later._ And is that really what we want? Can you honestly say that’s what you want in all this? Because I can’t say that. I _don’t_ want it. _If_ we did that I want it to be because we want it, not…not because we feel like we should.”

He tugged on her shoulders until she finally looked at him, feeling somehow worse when she saw the frown on his face. “It isn’t like that, Eli. Do you really think that’s…something I’d do? Something I’d want?”

“No, not on my own,” she insisted. “But—it did sound like that, for a moment.” It was true, honestly, and though she wouldn’t have accused him of it on her own…when he said it…

“You really would think that of me?” George asked her quietly.

Eli winced, realizing she’d hurt him by the admission. Stupid, not to tell him what he wanted to hear—but she didn’t want to lie to him, regardless of whether or not she could, so she’d just…been honest. A poor decision, in that case. “It isn’t like that-”

“But it is,” he interrupted, rising from the couch. “Look, I know you, I know you still doubt me and you might always doubt me—because you can’t believe that anybody would actually care for you. And I know _why_ you feel that way. But can’t you just—just _trust_ me for once? After everything we’ve been through and done, can you please trust me, Eli?”

She stood up suddenly and stormed across the room, more hurt than she’d thought, her hands trembling and hot, pins-and-needles pricking her fingertips. “You don’t know what it’s like!” she snapped, though her voice wavered. “All your life, you’ve known exactly who you are, exactly where you belong! You’ve never had to wonder why nothing feels _right_ , why your parents don’t like almost anything about you, or why you don’t even look like them! I…” Eli broke off and pressed her hands over her face. “I had to Obliviate my own parents, George.”

“You _what_?” In seconds he was there, at her side, taking her hands and pulling her in close like they’d never been at odds. “Eli, love, what did you do?”

Eli bowed her head, unable to meet his eyes—she hadn’t told a soul what happened with her parents a year ago. “I had to,” she rasped. “They were suffering from the spell Evangeline McKinnon—from the spell my mother put on them. Those sorts of implanted memories go bad, they had memories on top of memories and I just… There was no other way. So…before I went to work at Hogwarts last year…I went and did it.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” George tipped her head up and looked down at her so sadly, not hurt by her actions but just…aching _for_ her, for what she’d had to do. “You didn’t need to handle that alone, why didn’t you talk to one of us? To me, to Remus, to Simon, anybody…”

“It was my choice. I had to do it, and I didn’t want—I didn’t need any of you bearing it with me.” She’d thought to tell at least George, originally, but it had just been…too painful. And since then, she’d been able to simply put it out of her mind and feel all right about it by plying herself with distractions and pretending nothing had ever happened. She had her father, she had the Weasleys, she had Simon… But now… None of it was holding the floodgates shut.

She crumbled, her knees giving way as sorrow overtook her. They hadn’t been her biological parents—but they had _raised_ her, and she’d been forced to erase herself from their lives. She didn’t exist to them. If they saw her, if _she_ saw _them_ …

George knelt beside her and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight to his chest. “I’m sorry, Eli… I’m so sorry…”

She shook her head. “I made the decision, not you.”

“But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t painful,” he murmured. “You always want everyone to think you’re so untouchable, that nothing bothers you, but I know you, Eli. I know that’s not true. You don’t need to hide things from me, not ever. Especially not things like this. If I’d known…” George sighed and tilted her head up. “I wouldn’t have said it like that. Please, don’t shut me out, love, not from something you _know_ I’d help you with… Even if it just meant being there when it was done, I would’ve stood by you.”

She did know—of course she knew, but it had been…too hard to face, too much to handle. And though she trusted him…the truth was, she didn’t trust _herself_. Eli hadn’t trusted her own ability to cope with this. She’d been protecting herself, like she always did, the only way she knew to keep from getting hurt. And yet…

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “I was just… I…”

“I know,” he told her gently. She believed he did, somehow. “It’s all right now, love. We’ll get through this. Together.”

_Together_.

Eli leaned into him and closed her eyes. What a beautiful thought… To face the world together. She wondered if they might truly get that chance, one day. Beyond the war, beyond everything they had to face. And for a moment…just a single, breathtaking moment…she believed they would.


	25. Attacks and Alliances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a couple super acidic reviews on ff.net for my only other story I've posted, one of which was deleted but I think it's the same person... Anyway! I'm a little downcast about it but I refuse to let it knock me down - so instead of moping, I'm updating both stories today. I went on a writing frenzy and got this edited, which means...we only have five chapters and the epilogue left after this! I'm going to bawl my eyes out when I'm finished. This chapter...oh man, a LOT happens. Obviously we're moving into Hallows now, so there's plenty of setup for the events to come. We are approaching the end, lovelies! I hope you enjoy this more than the reviewers for my FMA story liked their last chapter, hah!

The day of Bill and Fleur’s wedding dawned foggy and a bit wet, but it cleared up within an hour and soon enough the skies shone a beautiful blue, perfect for a wedding. Eli busied herself aiding Mrs. Weasley and trying to keep her from losing her head—a difficult task in and of itself—until finally, _finally_ , it was time for the ceremony. There had been an interruption earlier in the day, when the Minister of Magic himself showed up, but he’d only been there to deal with Dumbledore’s will, as the late Headmaster had left Harry, Ron, and Hermione bequests in his will. Not entirely surprising, though Eli thought the day he’d chosen to handle things was a bit rude. She didn’t think for one moment that wasn’t planned.

Despite a few snags, largely caused by the twins’ desire to _‘lighten the mood,’_ as they claimed, the ceremony went off beautifully. Eli pretended very staunchly she wasn’t moved to tears. Afterwards, the chairs were rearranged to clear space for a dance floor, and tables were conjured in the marquee as well. Leaving the others to cause some mischief, Eli settled at a table near the edge and merely people-watched, enjoying the moment of peace.

Soon enough, though, her father stepped out of the crowd and sat beside her, looking perhaps a bit…lighter than he had before. “I spoke to Harry,” he began, giving her a sideways look. “We’ve asked him to be godfather.”

Eli grinned. “That’s perfect.”

“But…” Remus took her hand and visibly drew himself up. “Dora and I…in the event that something happens to us…”

Immediately her smile fell. “Don’t talk like that-”

“It’s a fact of the world we live in, I’m afraid,” he murmured gently. “And we would rather have our baby’s future secured than leave it up to chance. Which is why she and I discussed it in the first place. And we…should something occur…would very much want you and George to look after our child, if you’d be willing.”

Eli felt like her heart had dropped right to her shoes. “Dad—I…but if you…”

A hand rested on her shoulder, nearly making her jump in fright. “We’ll do it, Remus,” George told him, voice steady. “Just…probably don’t emphasize to your _daughter_ why you’re asking, yeah?”

“Of course we would,” Eli blurted, finally getting over her momentary lapse and clenching down on Remus’s hand. “That’s not even a _question_ , that’s going to be my—my little brother or sister, I’d never let them grow up without…” She shook herself and brought her other hand up to rest atop George’s, endlessly grateful he’d shown up at exactly the right moment. “ _Yes_ , dad. Absolutely, unequivocally, yes.”

Remus smiled sheepishly, a bit chagrinned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so morose. We only want to have everything covered—I…” Lowering his voice, he admitted, “I did try to convince Dora to sit out missions for a while… Not that I got anywhere, naturally.”

George laughed at that. “You actually thought you’d convince her? You’d have more luck convincing a troll not to carry its club.”

“Fair point.” Rising to his feet, Remus pressed a kiss atop Eli’s head and told them, “I’d better get back to her—she’s got it in her head one of the witches out on the dance floor is eyeing me the wrong way.”

“If you need us to hex someone, just let us know,” Eli half-teased.

He groaned and passed a hand over his face. “You are definitely a Marauder’s daughter. No, I don’t need you to hex anyone, Eli. But if Dora asks, you can tell her I was absolutely with you the entire time I was away.”

“Cross my heart,” George snickered, with a smirk that promised no such thing.

Remus eyed him knowingly—but then apparently decided it wasn’t worth it, and merely smiled and walked away.

“He’s right about one thing,” George commented lightly, tugging at one of Eli’s curls. “You’re _definitely_ a Marauder’s daughter. I love that mischievous streak. It’s funny, though… Your dad can be so stoic, it can be hard to see him as one of the Marauders.”

“I think it was easier to see in Sirius,” she admitted, with a touch of melancholy. “My dad… When James and Lily Potter were murdered, he ended up alone, lost virtually all his friends in one night. I think it’d be difficult not to lose some of that lightheartedness.” Eli looked across the dance floor, to where Remus had joined back up with Tonks and the two were talking quietly, entirely in their own world. “It’s better now, though. He seems much lighter. And god, you should’ve heard all the stories, Padfoot—Sirius told me so much more that Christmas we all stayed there, dad likes to pretend he wasn’t involved but he was a Marauder, through and through…”

“It explains a lot, though.” He smirked and tapped her nose.

Eli raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

“Like how much you loved helping us out with all our pranks at school. You were a complete natural, so it only makes sense that you’re related to that lot.”

“Thanks,” she muttered dryly. “ _’That lot.’_ ”

George laughed brightly, merely amused by her tone rather than bothered. “Oh, you know what I mean, love.” The music changed, and he grinned, rising and offering her a hand. “Come on. Dance with me?”

“Why are you always asking me to dance?” she muttered. “I’m not a dancer.” Yet she let him take her anyway, trailing him between tables all the way to the dance floor.

Because it was George—and she could scarcely say no to him, after all—Eli let him keep her out for _three_ whole songs before all but dragging him back off, laughing as he begged her to stay. “No, it’s not happening,” she told him firmly. “Just because I _can_ dance doesn’t mean I enjoy doing it around a whole mess of people.”

George wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her back to their table with a shake of his head. “One of these days I’ll get you to really let loose—like in Hamley’s.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “That was a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see.”

Eli sidestepped their table and slid out of George’s arm as she spotted Harry lingering near the edge of the tent, looking a bit uncomfortable and out of place. “So, dad said he talked to you,” she began softly, moving to stand beside him. “Asked you to be godfather. I think it’s a good choice, if my opinion matters at all, you know.”

“You think so?” he asked in a low voice. “Since I’m going off after the wedding and all?”

“Dad’s not an idiot, he knows you’ve got your own plans,” Eli sighed. “And _I_ know for sure, but I still think he’s right. You understand how important family is, Harry. If something happens, George and I will watch over that child, but you…” She touched his shoulder lightly. “You know the things a child might miss, when he and I just don’t. Even though I was raised by muggles who weren’t actually my parents, they still were there for me when I was little, I didn’t go through the same thing. And we both know Mrs. Weasley is pretty much the greatest mum of all time. I think dad was _completely_ right in his choice.”

Harry smiled up at her reluctantly. “Thanks, Eli.” Then, with a faint smirk, he added, “You’re really serious about this whole… _should’ve-been-family_ thing, aren’t you?”

“Damn right I am.”

She was going to say something else, she really was—there were so many things she still wanted to say to him—but the whole party fell eerily silent, and Eli was distracted searching for the source. She spotted it just as George rushed to her side and gripped her arm tightly.

A Patronus.

But not just any Patronus, no. The unmistakable lynx form of Kingsley Shacklebolt’s.

Eli couldn’t tear her eyes away as it opened its mouth and began to speak in an ethereal, ringing voice. “ _The Ministry has fallen,_ ” it intoned. “ _The Minister of Magic is dead. They are coming._ ”

Chaos erupted. Eli felt George ripped away from her arm as he plunged into the chaos, either going to fight or being jostled away by the crowd, she wasn’t sure. But she found herself grabbing onto Harry’s shoulder and locking her fingers down to keep him from being dragged away too. With all the strength she could muster, she yanked Harry with her along the edge of the marquee until she could see familiar people amid the panicking guests—her father and Tonks, back to back, wands raised; Mr. Weasley spinning on the spot, searching for attackers; Mrs. Weasley yelling for Ginny—and _there_ , Hermione among the crowd, looking panicked.

Eli shoved past a screaming guest and forced Harry at Hermione. She knew what had to be done, they all did. As soon as Hermione had got her hand closed round Harry’s, she began shouting for Ron, searching for him among the throng.

Mercifully, Ron burst through a terrified couple and reached them, panting hard.

“Go!” Remus shouted, appearing at Eli’s shoulder nearly out of nowhere. “Harry, _go_ , get out of here! All of you!”

Hermione acted first, giving a single brief nod before clenching onto the boys’ arms and spinning on the spot. In an instant, the three vanished, Disapparating—hopefully to somewhere safe.

Eli had already begun looking for George when her dad gripped her arm and pulled her round to face him. “Eli, listen to me! You must find Ginny and get her out of here—and go somewhere safe, both of you!”

“Why?” she demanded. “I’ll take Ginny but I’m not leaving everyone here!”

He shook his head fiercely. “You are our _only_ Healer, do you understand? If something happens to you and anyone is injured…”

_Fuck._

He was right, he was _right_ and she absolutely hated it. Eli ground her teeth but nodded all the same, recognizing the importance of it all. If somebody was injured today and she was incapacitated or worse… That could literally be the difference between life and death for that person. It was her duty to get out safely, no matter how badly she wanted to stay and fight.

“Please,” she begged him, wrapping her arms around him as tight as she could, “ _please_ keep yourself safe, dad.”

He nodded and kissed her forehead. “I will. Now _go_ , Eli, find Ginny and get out of here!”

She lost track of him immediately as he rushed back into the chaos, right as the marquee roof shredded above them—Death Eaters soared down in plumes of black smoke, wands out, sending hexes and curses the moment they landed. Eli flung herself down, dodging one, and belatedly pulled her own wand out. She stayed low then, ducking under tables and behind decorations as she searched for Ginny. Remus was right, there was a job to be done here, and she was damn well going to do it.

Finally, Eli found Ginny between the twins, both fighting to protect her—while the girl was holding her own just fine. It was no secret that Ginny was a great fighter, she could probably handle herself, but she was definitely everyone’s priority at that point.

Eli lunged past a fleeing partygoer and got one hand around Ginny’s wrist. The girl pulled back sharply, realizing Eli’s plan, but she couldn’t get free. George gave Eli a single firm nod, and she closed her eyes—and turned on the spot.

“No!” Ginny shrieked, as they reappeared. “We can’t just leave them there, Eli!”

“We have to,” Eli told her firmly. “I don’t like it either, okay? My dad’s back there, George is back there, almost everyone we bloody well care about is still there but I have a duty! I need to be able to be the Order’s Healer and I can’t do that if I’m injured myself!”

Ginny glared at her, eyes bright with anger. “Then take me back!”

“What would your parents say?” Eli demanded. She was being harsh and she knew it, but she was angry and upset and terrified and a hundred thousand things, and she did _not_ have the space to deal with Ginny’s overwhelming desire to put herself in danger. “What would the twins say?! Goddammit, Ginny, Simon is still back there somewhere too! Don’t you think I’m bloody terrified right now? But I _can’t_ go back!”

“We should be there fighting!” Ginny argued furiously. “That’s my family back there, Eli!”

“They’re my family too!” Eli snarled. “Stop being such a damned reckless Gryffindor for a moment and _think_! What would happen to us if we went back, huh? How exactly are we going to reenter that fight now that we’d be going in disoriented? Harry and the others got away, once the Death Eaters figure out their prey’s gone they’ll go searching for _them_ instead. We jut have to wait it out.”

Ginny moved to argue back, opened her mouth—but then pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. “Fine,” she ground out. “Just—fine.”

Eli sighed and put her wand away, now that the girl was calming down a bit, and tried to get her breath back. She didn’t much like arguing, that was a much more…Gryffindor thing to do than she usually preferred. But she supposed that was a bit of her dad coming through.

_Dad… Please be safe…_

“So…” Ginny sighed and looked round, confused. “Where are we, anyway?”

“My dad’s cottage,” Eli told her. “He’ll be cross I brought you here, but I didn’t know where else to go, in the moment. Hardly anybody knows where it is, it’s in a muggle forest anyway, so… I figured no Death Eaters would come looking round here.” She hoped Remus would forgive her—it was the only place she could think of on short notice. The second thought she’d had was Eoropaidh, but that was nonsense and _completely_ exposed, besides. At least here there were a few protective spells in place.

The redhead furrowed her brow. “He lives here? It seems…kind of…dreary, doesn’t it?”

Eli bristled—but then softened, realizing who she was talking to. Ginny wasn’t commenting on it being a bit rundown, well-worn… She was talking about the lack of creature comforts, the fact that there weren’t any of the usual homey touches—family photos, rugs, knickknacks, just… _anything_. Her dad’s cottage was conspicuously bare. “I think it’s very telling, really,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry I got so cross with you,” Ginny sighed, looking rueful and genuinely apologetic. “I just…hate being dragged away like that. I’d so much rather be useful.”

“You _are_ useful. You were doing a great job, honestly. I just…knew it was the best thing to do.” Eli crossed to sit on the couch, and thankfully Ginny sat beside her, seeming to have calmed down by now. “If it makes you feel any better, I think I’d trust you more than anybody else to help me if someone does get injured. You’re very good under pressure. So if something happens…”

Ginny bobbed her head quickly. “I’ll help. Promise.” She twisted her mouth up, sinking back into the couch a bit further. “But…how will we know when it’s safe to go back? If they don’t know where we are…”

“Oh, George or my dad will figure it out,” Eli dismissed. “I’ll send word if we don’t hear from them by sundown, too.”

“So we’ve just…got to wait here?”

She nodded solemnly. “That’s the way it has to be.”

\--

Just before sundown, when Eli was about ready to drift off to sleep right there on the sofa, there was a _crack_ —and she jolted awake immediately, leaping to her feet with her hands already digging for her Healer’s bag.

“S’all right, Eli,” Simon told her gently, crossing the room to grip her forearms. “Everyone’s all right. No injuries.”

“Not even me,” Tonks snorted. “Though your dad thought I should come by and get checked out anyway.”

Eli let out a breath, trying to calm herself down. Everyone was all right, nobody had been hurt, she had nothing to panic about… And yet… “So…dad’s okay? And George? Fred? Everybody’s fine, you swear it?”

Simon grinned at her ruefully. “Promise.”

“How’d you know where to find us?” Ginny asked curiously, with a yawn. She’d fallen asleep herself.

“Oh, George said this was the first place you’d go,” Simon explained, waving his hand dismissively. “Remus didn’t think so, but honestly, I thought George had the right idea, so we thought we’d try here first. Then it took a moment because he didn’t trust the twins not to give up the location of his house, so I had to offer, and then convince him I wouldn’t go telling Fred…”

She crossed her arms at him. “And you won’t, right?”

“C’mon, Eli, you know me better than that.”

Well…she did, but she also knew Fred quite well too. “You had better not give in when he asks,” she sighed. “We’d better get back, though, otherwise I think George and my dad might collectively lose their minds.”

Tonks smirked. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

Since there were no injuries, the clean-up party was in decent spirits when they got back. Eli and Remus were able to confirm that Harry, Ron, and Hermione escaped—as they should’ve done—and that at least put everyone’s minds at ease that the Death Eaters hadn’t gotten what they wanted that day. For the moment, that was enough. Eli, Simon, and the twins all went home that night feeling cautiously optimistic purely since they knew, somewhere, there was a fight raging against Voldemort, and it was just the start.

But the next morning…everything changed.

Eli stood utterly still in the kitchen at the Burrow, listening to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s argument about Ginny going back to school. The world had changed inutterably overnight—Rufus Scrimgeour had been murdered, that much they knew…but he’d been replaced by a man named Pius Thicknesse, who was undoubtedly working with the Death Eaters, if he wasn’t one himself. Snape had been named Headmaster of Hogwarts…and for all children of the proper age in Britain, attendance had been made mandatory. The requirement left no doubts as to what sort of education they’d be receiving. And with Snape’s own history… It was no wonder they were at a loss as to what to do.

She knew the answer, though. It was all dreadfully, painfully simple, and every fibre of her wished it weren’t true.

“I’ll look after her,” she told the room quietly.

Mrs. Weasley turned to her in shock. “You—oh, but Eliana…”

“I’m going back, after all,” Eli pointed out. She could hardly raise her voice above a whisper. “I’ve already gotten my summons in the post today.”

“Like hell you are,” Remus practically snarled, detatching himself from the far wall and striding towards her. “You know exactly what sort of school he’ll be running, Eli. It’s far too dangerous, and considering your-”

“Considering my what?” she hissed. “My parentage? Blood status? The company I keep? It’s not about that, dad. Snape asked me back, and he’d damn well be smarter than sending me a letter if he was going to do anything to me. He was my head of house for seven years, he knows what motivates me, how I think, the way I’ll handle things, all of it. If this were a trap, just a ploy to get me there, he’d set it far better than this.”

He still looked completely furious. “How do you know that? Eli, you know our history, he could just as easily be luring you there just to—to…” But his voice broke and he cut himself off, going very pale in the face.

Eli sighed and shook her head. She couldn’t stay upset with him, not for long, and especially not in a situation like this. “Because…he’s a Slytherin. We’re just craftier than that.”

Mr. Weasley gave her a worried look. “Then why would he want you there, Eli? What reason could he possibly have for summoning you back when he _knows_ your allegiance?”

“That’s just it,” she murmured. “He knows how I feel about all this—so he knows I’d stay for the students. It hardly matters if I’m spying or not, it’s no secret what’s happening at the school, especially with the Ministry taken over… They won’t be pretending things are normal, so they won’t be worried about word getting out from inside. He wants me there because…because…” Eli shut her eyes a moment, her heart pounding behind her ribs. “Because nothing would stop me from helping the kids there. No deaths, all serious injuries healed… I’d be the only real spy the Order can insert, so he knows you can’t afford _not_ to send me back. And… If it came to it, I’d be a valuable hostage for them.”

She swore her dad might faint as she said that.

“All the more reason not to send you,” Mrs. Weasley told her firmly, shaking her head. “If you know it’s a trap, you can’t just—go walking straight into it!”

“I can look after myself,” Eli argued back. “And that’s just what they’re thinking, I’m not going to be anybody’s hostage. I had the advantage of sneaking round the castle for five years with the Marauder’s Map, I know all the hidden passages and ways out. Snape doesn’t, so the Death Eaters won’t either.”

“This is ridiculous,” Fred griped, giving her an incredulous look. “Why would you _want_ to go back there, Eli? With everything that’s going on?”

But it was George who answered, with a light touch on his twin’s arm. “Name the first ten people you can think of who are still going to be at Hogwarts this year,” he murmured. “That’s why.” Looking rather weary, he crossed the room and rested his hands on Eli’s shoulders, staring right into her eyes like he could see down to her soul. “You’ve got a complex, love, did you know that?”

Eli rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

“I understand, though,” he pressed on. “You want to keep everyone safe. And I bet even Remus can’t tell you that you’re wrong to think they’d be safer with you there.”

Though he still looked ghostly white, her dad managed to nod weakly. “I—I’m afraid George is right, Molly. She… Having Eli there would…undoubtedly be far better for the students.” He glanced sideways at her, then added, “And… Knowing the back passages and secret exits… If something were to go wrong…”

“I could evacuate the students,” Eli agreed quickly. He understood! He knew exactly what she was getting at! “I’ll teach Ginny everything I know, and she can help me spread the word to other students we trust. We’ll be able to get them all out if something goes badly.”

“We had Dumbledore’s Army seventh year,” Simon pointed out as he stepped to Fred’s side, glancing up at him a bit nervously. “Everyone who was part of that would help, I bet.”

Mrs. Weasley pressed her hands to her face. “I can’t believe you’re considering this.”

Yet it seemed at that point they’d convinced Mr. Weasley too, for he put his arm around her shoulders and sighed, “I don’t think it’s much safer out here, Molly. At least at Hogwarts they’ll be trying to point the kids in a direction, rather than just…” He cut himself off. “And we’ve got the blood status to keep Ginny safe, at least.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” Eli swore quickly. “I promise.”

And though Mrs. Weasley protested again, it was weak and halfhearted—the decision had already been made.

\--

For the first time since graduating, Eli went to Kings Cross to see everybody off, though she would have to Apparate to Hogsmeade right after and end up on a pretty tight schedule. She wanted to give Ginny a couple last-minute suggestions for secrecy and planning—and reassure Mr. and Mrs. Weasley she’d be waiting at the train station in Hogsmeade with Hagrid. A familiar face to help all the kids feel safer…and make sure they understood not everyone at Hogwarts was in league with Voldemort.

The twins went as well, standing nearly a head taller than most of the students and cutting rather imposing figures as they watched over Ginny. And most surprisingly, despite his usual reclusiveness, Remus had come along to the station. Eli had no doubts about _why_ —he was there for her.

He stood to one side while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley fawned over Ginny, looking anxious and uncomfortable even though the manner on the platform was too chaotic for anybody to really notice him. Eli had to smile at the sight, though, just glad to see him out and about for once. He spent _far_ too much time sequestered in his cottage. “Dad, hey,” she murmured, moving to his side and taking his arm. “It’ll be all right, you know.”

“Will it?” he asked her softly, with a shake of his head. “This time… I’m afraid I’m not quite certain of the same thing.”

Eli squeezed down on his arm gently. “Do you trust me?”

Her dad looked down at her in astonishment, blinking like he couldn’t fathom the question. “Of course I do.”

“Then…trust me to handle this,” she murmured. “Please, dad. I know how awful this is, and I know how difficult it is to just…have that kind of faith, but… I know I can handle it.”

“I trust you, Eli, of course I trust you.” Remus turned to her and found it in himself to smile, to reach up and take her face between his hands. “But I can’t help but worry… My daughter is going right into the hornet’s nest and I won’t be there to look after you. It isn’t easy.”

“If it’s too much, if I can’t handle it…” Eli sighed heavily. “I’ll grab Ginny and the others and get everyone out. But it _won’t_ be too much. I know it.”

He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Be careful, love. Please.”

“I will be, I promise. Careful as I can be.” Even with the fear, the stress of the situation she was putting herself into—Eli felt warm from head to toe. Remus didn’t even have to try very hard to be a good father, he just _loved_ so fiercely that it came naturally to him. And she knew it was natural, because when he did try too hard he came off a bit more awkward and uncertain, like he was afraid at any moment she’d scorn him and turn away. He was going to be a wonderful dad to his and Tonks’s baby, when the time came.

Then he leaned in close, right beside her ear, and murmured, “I haven’t found…the right moment to tell you, with everything else that’s been happening, but…” His fingers tightened on her shirt, almost imperceptibly. “It worked, Eli. Your potion worked.”

She jerked away from him in shock, her heart beating hard and fast in her chest. “It—are you joking? It _worked_? Dad, why didn’t you _tell_ me, I could’ve—I mean—oh my _god_.”

“I thought you might like the boost just before you go,” Remus explained cautiously. “I know you, Eli, and I know you’re putting all that on hold while you go back to Hogwarts, but I… I did want you to know.” He drew a hand through his hair, looking about as frazzled as she felt. “Honestly, I haven’t known how to process it myself, so it’s taken me a bit to really come round to the concept. But you did it. You actually did it.”

He didn’t sound like he’d doubted her—but it was still so bloody _astonishing_ to hear that she’d actually managed to modify the Wolfsbane potion, the community’s impossible alteration, widely thought of as a lost cause. And Eli had done it.

“I’ll send you more,” she told him quickly. “For the next full moon. All right? I promise I will. And it’s cheaper now, so you can’t even argue it, and I still need to make sure I’ve got it practiced and everything.”

For once, he didn’t even argue with her. He just smiled and nodded, pulling her back into his arms and holding her fiercely tight.

Over his shoulder, Eli spotted George eyeing her, curious. _‘Did it work?’_ he mouthed, clearly not wanting to interrupt the moment. It was sweet, actually.

_‘It did,’_ she mouthed back.

George grinned and leaned over to Fred to update him, and then Simon, all three shooting her matching excited looks. For just a moment, Eli felt _hopeful_ about the future, rather than terrified—she had something to keep her pressing on, now. Something beyond herself, her own bubble… Now she had to make it through to the other side to enact change, real change for the lycanthropic community.

But first she had to survive the year.

\--

Eli met the students at Hogsmeade with Hagrid nearby, her wand in her hand but tucked beneath her robes. She was glad to see Ginny, Neville, and Luna all taking charge of a sort, looking after the first years and keeping track of everybody. So the DA would be prevalent that year, at least among the student body—and a good thing, too. Eli had already been up to the castle and seen Death Eaters strolling the corridors like they owned the ruddy place.

And Snape…

_‘But she’s that ruddy werewolf’s daughter!’_

_‘I told you, Miss Lupin is not to be harmed. Don’t you think her allies would do anything to ensure her safety? Besides… She knows better than to risk endangering the students. She’ll behave herself.’_

Eli had been right. She was a valuable hostage, if the situation merited it—and her compliance was assured with well-placed threats and suggestions. It was exactly what she’d expected. And yet…

_‘Why are you protecting me? Why the hell would you care?’_

_‘I meant only what I said. You’re far too valuable for the Order to risk your life.’_

_‘But you know why I’m here, you know damn well that I’m going to fight for the students, for muggle-borns and anybody your bloody Death Eaters target. I’m a liability. You’ve known me for almost nine years now, you know exactly how I am. So what exactly is your play here?’_

_‘Don’t presume you’re so special to me. I’m merely seizing an opportunity you’ve so graciously handed me.’_

Snape had _defended_ her to Alecto Carrow, one of the new Death Eater professors. Muggle Studies, she taught. Eli could imagine exactly the sort of curriculum somebody with that much cruelty in her eyes would provide. But Snape had ensured her safety—he’d named her as a hostage, of course, but she’d expected that and he knew she was sharp enough to expect it. So what was his play? Something wasn’t adding up, she just hadn’t had the time to think it through yet. But she would. She’d figure out exactly what he was doing—and find out how to stop him, to stop all of them.

Hagrid took the first years to the boats, exchanging a brief, firm nod with Eli, while she led the others up the hill. A couple Death Eaters were waiting by the carriages, wands out, searching students and leering the whole time. Neville had already pulled Eli aside and told her Death Eaters had come aboard the train searching for Harry earlier, which was stupid, in her opinion. They’d played their hand too early. The kids knew they could make them scramble to and fro by whispering _Harry_ in the hallways.

It was good fodder to keep a general sense of dissent alive for the year, at least.

Eli hitched a ride on a random carriage, holding on where a footman might, just to keep an eye on everyone for the journey up. Once at the castle, the students were shuffled in and all but stuffed into their seats at the four tables—first years were sorted quickly, without ceremony, and Eli got a decent feel for how the year would go. It wasn’t about pretending things were normal, no, they weren’t interested in that. It was all about fear-mongering, for the students who might fight back—and indoctrination, for those who hadn’t developed an opinion or _had_ , and supported the cause.

Strategically, as the teachers got up to leave, Eli managed to pass McGonagall and give her a nod, and a brief clasp of the hands in support—and when she stepped away, there was a small, folded bit of parchment still in her hand. Eli pretended not to notice.

Her own house was given preference, allowed to linger in the Great Hall while the other three were herded off to their dormitories immediately following dinner. Eli headed towards the teachers’ lodgings until she lost her tail—one of the new Death Eaters, someone she didn’t recognize—and then took a back passage and ducked out of sight, immediately slipping the parchment back out of her pocket and looking at it.

_-Canis Major-_

The password for Gryffindor tower. She was sure of it. Eli felt a grin curl her lips up, despite the tension gripping her chest, for it was the constellation in which the star _Sirius_ existed. McGonagall had quite a spine.

Eli climbed up to the tower and spoke the password to a very uncharacteristically nervous Fat Lady—who swung open and allowed her in, nearly clipping her ankles as she slid through the portrait hole in her eagerness to be closed again. Not that Eli could fault her for the caution, considering the presence of Death Eaters in the castle.

“See, I told you she’d come,” Ginny announced, prodding a finger into Neville’s arm.

He grinned wearily. “I didn’t know how you’d get the password,” he explained to Eli with an apologetic shrug.

“Oh, McGonagall gave it to me. It’s all espionage and secret handshakes now,” Eli dismissed easily. “So, obviously things are…pretty rough. It’s no secret that I’m with the Order, since Snape knows all about that, but nobody’s going to risk harming me and inciting them to act—but it still means you lot need to be careful coming to me.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Neville sighed. “They’re already threatening bodily harm. And I heard someone threatening Madame Pomfrey earlier, so it might be safer to come to you.”

Eli nodded. “I figured it might be something like that. So I made up a couple things for you all to keep on hand.” She reached into her expanded Healer’s bag and pulled out another, smaller bag with a few vials and jars inside. “I’ve labeled all of it already—it’s just basic first aid, really, nothing fancy, but it’ll be good in a tight spot.”

Ginny took the bag and immediately went to hide it in a spot the twins must’ve showed her—a hidden compartment in the floor, beneath a loose stone. “But what are we going to do?” she asked, rising from her knees and dusting her hands off. “We can’t just sit here, we’ve got to fight back.”

“Dumbledore’s Army would be a good start,” Neville suggested. A couple of ther students picked their heads up at that, looking eager—the Gryffindors would always be ready for a fight.

“There aren’t many of us left at school,” Eli pointed out, “but it’s a good stepping stone, definitely. You two need to round up everybody who’s willing to push back and get them on the same page as us. Make sure they all know to come to me for help, too.” She dropped onto the nearest armchair and sighed, staring into the fire as she considered it. “We need…a sort of network of students, from every house, working against the Death Eaters.”

“Problem is,” Neville began slowly, “we only knew you in Slytherin, Eli. And the Hufflepuffs in the DA have all graduated or drifted apart from us.”

Eli met his gaze steadily. “I think I can help with that.”

“Really?” Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t get along with anybody else in your house.”

“Not at first, no…” Eli smirked, mostly to herself. “But I know one girl who’s absolutely brilliant. _And_ her best friend’s a Hufflepuff. I’ll reach out to her, I know she’ll help us—she helped get a lot of first years out when Death Eaters attacked the school last year. She’s a year below you, Ginny, but I promise, she’s the right person for this.”

Ginny shrugged. “I don’t care how old she is, long as she’ll help us.”

“Who is it, Eli?” Neville asked curiously.

“Her name’s Nancy Clements. Best friends since first year with Ada Greenbrier, that’s the Hufflepuff I mentioned. With those two, we’ll have people in every house working against the Death Eaters.”

To Eli’s surprise, Ginny’s eyes lit up. “I know Ada. She’s on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, one of the first really good female Beaters their team’s had in a long time.”

“I’ll find an excuse to talk to Nancy as soon as I can, and we’ll get going on this.” Eli gave the two the firmest, most authoritative look she could muster. “But until we have the means to get a little more traction, I don’t want you doing anything too serious, all right? We need to be careful. I promised just about everybody that if it got too bad, I’d get you all out, so don’t make me do that in the first week, please?”

Ginny nodded. “We’ll be careful,” she swore.

Eli really wanted to press her, but she knew Ginny—that was the best she was going to get, honestly. So she left them at that point, heading down from the tower and going straight for the Headmaster’s office. _Snape’s_ office now. Feeling a little bold, Eli burst right in without knocking, not even surprised when he didn’t bother looking up from whatever he was writing.

“Can I help you, Miss Lupin?” he asked dully.

She gritted her teeth. “Am I to understand that my workload will be…considerably bigger this year? I’ve heard a few rumors.”

He glanced up for just a half-second. “It would seem that way, yes.”

“Then I’d like permission to recruit a student assistant.”

_That_ made Snape look up at her sharply, eyes narrowed, like he was trying to guess her intentions. “And why exactly would you need that?”

“I’m the only Healer in this castle who can prepare _all_ her own potions,” Eli shot back. “And if I’m going through more of them, then I’ll need a little help keeping up with everything. I’ll get all the information I need from Slughorn, I just need your permission to do it.” This was a gamble—there was no guarantee she could get the right alibi from Slughorn, but if it worked…

Snape scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t care what you do.”

“Excellent.” Eli bit back the retort she wanted to throw at him—something like _I don’t care if you keep breathing_ —and left, this time going right for Slughorn’s office, where the man could usually be found at all hours. He wasn’t much for his actual quarters, she’d found.

When she knocked on the door, Slughorn opened it with his wand out first—but relief flooded him the moment he saw her. “Miss Lupin! Forgive me, I thought you were…well…”

“I know,” she told him quickly. “I wanted to have a word with you, actually. Can I come in?”

“Yes, yes, of course, come in,” he urged, stepping aside and letting her pass. She noted, as he closed the door behind her, that he’d added about six locks to the door, not to mention the protective enchantments she could sense coming from it. Slughorn was taking no chances, it seemed. “What can I do for you?”

Eli didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. “I was wondering who you thought was showing real proficiency in last year’s Potions class. I’m hunting for a student assistant since, well, I assume this year I’ll have my hands full with far more injuries than normal. Maybe a Slytherin, someone I already know?”

“Hm…” He paced across the room as he considered that, reaching for a glass of some kind of amber alcohol that had been left on the edge of his desk. “Well, I would say Miss Nancy Clements from Slytherin has been showing some real promise… She’s still young, mind you, but she reminds me a bit of yourself, just between us. And I doubt she’d say no to the extra work, either, she’s very bright, you see. And determined.”

_Just like I thought._

“Nancy Clements… Yes, the name sounds familiar,” Eli mused as though she didn’t already know the girl. “I’ll speak with her tomorrow then, see if she’s willing to help.”

So her alibi was set. Now she just had to catch Nancy after schedules were handed out and convince her to help—not that she figured that would be too difficult, honestly, the girl had been eager enough when Death Eaters attacked the first time. Eli wasn’t an idiot, she knew that most of the Slytherins she’d had trouble with had either graduated or were simply cronies of Draco Malfoy, especially nowadays with Slughorn as head of Slytherin and plenty of younger students with different views filling in the house. More and more they were becoming like her, like Nancy, and _not_ like Malfoy or Marcus Flint or any of them.

The next morning, Eli loitered near the doors of the Great Hall until she spotted Nancy Clements on her way out—the brunette was flanked to either side by Ada Greenbrier, auburn-haired and as tall and athletic as before; and a girl Eli didn’t recognize, with a Ravenclaw blue scarf slung round her neck.

“Eli!” Nancy waved and jogged over to her, grinning brightly. “See, Ada, I told you she’d still be around.”

Ada huffed and muttered, “I just thought, you know, for safety’s sake…”

“That’s why I’m still here,” Eli told her in a lower voice, smirking. “And actually, in the same vein, I was looking to talk to you for a moment, Nancy. Professor Slughorn directed me your way.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “He did? What for?”

“An assistant.” Eli didn’t see any reason to lie about it—and with students passing around them, likely overhearing, she was just creating a stronger alibi for them both. It was perfect. “I think my workload is going to be quite different this year, so I was looking for somebody to help me keep all my healing potions stocked up. I know you’ve got OWLs this year, so you’ll be pretty busy, but…”

“I’ll do it,” Nancy blurted, eyes alight and wide. “I dunno why me, but I’ll help you, Eli.”

Eli had figured she’d say yes, but it was still nice to actually hear it. “Excellent. When’s your first free period? We can meet up in the hospital wing to discuss the details.”

She furrowed her brow and stared down at her schedule thoughtfully. “Er…noon, it seems like.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Eli squeezed her shoulder, offered a smile to the other two girls, and then hurried off down the hall. Lingering would only draw unwanted attention to them all, something she absolutely _had_ to avoid if this plan was going to work. For now, she’d bide her time until noon and see what Nancy said then.


	26. Shaky Plans, with Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, a LOT of stuff going down here. So much happens in the last book that doesn't affect anyone if they aren't accompanying the main trio, so it felt really short to write it this way - but I like it anyway. I hope you enjoy Eli's part in these events, as well as the other OCs lingering! I was SO happy to hear that people like Nancy & Ada, they've been fun to have around. As always, thank you for comments & views!!! I'm over 800 views on here and it means the world to me!

Noon found Eli pacing back and forth in the empty hospital wing—Madame Pomfrey had left her to look after things, with a promise to summon her if anything happened, so she was alone waiting for Nancy. But finally, around 12:06, the younger girl pushed past the doors and hurried in with a satchel slung over her shoulder, practically bulging at the seams and clearly weighing her down.

“Sorry!” Nancy called brightly, as she trudged down the aisle. “I had to grab a few things, I didn’t know how long we’d be here so I wanted to be prepared.”

Eli flicked her wand at the doors, casting a silencing charm, and beckoned for Nancy to follow her into the back office. Once there, she silenced _those_ doors too, as a secondary protective measure, before she even dared open her mouth again. “So, you know I’m not _just_ asking you to be my assistant, right?”

Nancy snorted. “’Course I do. I’m a Slytherin, same as you. I guessed you wanted me to help work against the Death Eaters, right? To take back the school?”

Smart girl. “Something like that. Do you recall… You would’ve been in third year then, I believe… The sort of…secret club called Dumbledore’s Army?”

“The Defense club?” she asked eagerly. “Ada and I weren’t close enough to anybody to get in back then, but we made friends with Naomi—that’s the Ravenclaw you’d have seen earlier—and her brother was in the DA, so he taught us everything we needed to know. They’re actually a year above us, so we didn’t really think they’d want to help, but they did anyway.”

Eli couldn’t help the wry little smirk that crept up on her face. It was just so _perfect_. “So you already know everything… That’s even better than I hoped.” She leaned into the wall and gave the shorter girl a steady look. “What I’m going to ask of you is very dangerous, Nancy.”

The brunette grinned. “I know.”

“This isn’t a joke, it’s real, and if I could avoid dragging you in I would. But we need all the help we can get.”

“I know, Eli.” Nancy’s blue eyes glittered, her jaw setting. “I want to help. And Ada and Naomi too. We’re on your side, and we aren’t the only ones, either. I’m in this, all the way.” She dropped her heavy bag and sank down into the nearest chair, something…different coming over her. “Look, you…you were the first person here to be kind to me, Eli. I might’ve grown up in the wizarding world but not being pureblood, a lot of people looked down on me, my whole life. You were the reason I reached out to Ada, since I saw she was having a rough time and I wanted to help her like you did for me. And right now…” Nancy pursed her lips together hard. “Right now there’s a whole mess of first years out there who are terrified out of their minds, because we’ve got Death Eaters as professors. I can’t just sit on my arse and let that happen.”

Eli reached out and squeezed her shoulder tightly. “Then I’ve got a job for you. And Ada and Naomi, if they’re willing.”

“We’ll help, all of us,” Nancy told her firmly. “Just tell me what to do.”

For a moment, Eli was struck by the significance of one tiny action—the moment she’d been kind to that small girl on the train, back when Dementors had boarded, just a snap decision to pay her a little bit of attention in an already tense moment… And the second time she’d encountered Nancy, when she’d helped give her and Ada just a little boost of confidence, nothing major. But it had led to _this_ , somehow, years and years later.

“We’re creating a network of people,” Eli explained after a second, “throughout all the houses. Some of it will be dissidence, fighting back in quiet ways against the Death Eaters—and some of it’s going to be things as basic as protecting weaker students, healing people when necessary, and…” She sucked in a breath. “Evacuation, if it comes to that.”

“Do you think it will?” she asked quietly.

Eli wanted to lie to her, to protect her…but that was a useless endeavor and she knew it. So instead she just told her, “It might. So we’ve got to be ready for anything.”

Nancy nodded grimly. “We’ll be ready.”

\--

With their network in place, Eli gave Ginny and Neville free reign to recruit and begin causing havoc, within reason. She was fully aware that nobody else would’ve acted the same—they would’ve been working differently to keep them _out_ of trouble—but Eli knew they wouldn’t keep their noses clean just because she asked. Instead, she’d be the barrier between them and genuine threats. With Nancy recruiting in Slytherin and Ada in Hufflepuff, their numbers grew almost exponentially, and soon there wasn’t a spare class period where _something_ wasn’t happening, be it graffiti on the walls— _Dumbledore’s Army, still recruiting!_ —or dungbombs going off. A steady stream of perfect, easily-denied rebellion. Eli was impossibly proud.

But then, the Death Eaters began firing back. _Snape_ began firing back. Before Christmas, the curriculum shifted—seventh years were tasked with performing the Cruciatus Curse on first years. In retaliation, angry and without Eli’s approval, a handful of them tried to steal Godric Gryffindor’s sword from Snape’s office, knowing Harry had been bequeathed that in Dumbledore’s will. Ginny and Neville spearheaded it, while Luna and Nancy joined in. Naturally they were caught and punished—rather lightly, in Eli’s opinion, serving detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest—and Eli made them swear to run any future plans by her.

Christmas was approaching, winter rushing in early as though to put visuals on the general mood round the castle, and Eli was looking _so_ forward to getting out of the castle for a bit and not being on high alert every damned day. It was just getting worse and worse, the kids were flagging, morale was down…

And she missed her _family_ , god, she missed George and her dad and Simon and Fred… Everybody. Never before had she been forced to be so separated from them—she’d been allowed to have lunches with George when he had a spare minute, to write them whenever she liked… But not in this regime. They weren’t even risking a letter, considering _anything_ could be fodder for Snape and the other Death Eaters to use against her.

Eli spent most of her days healing minor injuries, a disconcerting mix of physical and magical afflictions that told her more than any of the kids bothered to say—about how the Death Eaters were resorting to muggle violence, physical blows, to punish them as well as using spells. She both admired and hated their ability to just…handle it without ever running to her crying.

Finally, the holidays arrived and Eli could breathe. She personally saw all the students down to the train station—since nobody save Death Eaters’ kids had elected to remain this time around—and then, after gathering her things from the castle, Apparated straight to Kings Cross to meet them there.

As soon as she stepped onto the platform, a touch windswept from the chilly highlands and overdressed for the station, Eli was practically bowled down as George sprinted over and grabbed her in the tightest embrace, lifting her off her feet and spinning her round. She could only cling to him in return, the world _finally_ feeling right again with him so close.

“Missed you,” George laughed, as he pulled back and grinned at her.

Eli lifted onto her tiptoes to kiss him. “Me too.”

He released her long enough to let the others crowd in for hugs—Simon, Fred, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley—before draping his arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his side. “So,” he began in a low voice, while his parents went to watch for the train, “how bad is it?”

Eli could see Simon and Fred edging closer, curious. “Bad,” she admitted.

“But not bad enough to make you get everyone out,” Simon pointed out quickly, not bother to pretend he hadn’t listened in. “That’s got to count for something.”

“Well, we’re fighting back—Ginny, Neville, and Luna got the DA back together, and I recruited a few others to head it up too. So we have a bunch of kids working on this whole…rebellion thing, and to be honest, it’s making the Death Eaters uncomfortable at the very least.” Eli looked over as the train puffed in right on time, and students flooded out in various states of distress—the youngest ones, first years, ran almost sobbing into their parents’ arms. She saw Luna carrying one small girl off, the little one clinging to her until she saw her mum and went tearing off towards her.

Fred whistled softly. “Damn. It must be bad.”

“They’ve got the seventh years practicing Unforgiveable Curses on first years,” Eli murmured, shaking her head. “I’m doing what I can, we all are, but…”

Simon looked angrier than she’d ever seen him. “We’ve got to do something.”

“That’s up to Harry right now,” she pointed out quietly. “We’re doing what we can here, and I’m helping at the school, but… What else can the rest of us do? It’s Voldemort’s regime, we’re just…trying to find our way through.”

Christmas was a subdued affair, with plenty of people stepping in and out over the course of the day—it kept Mrs. Weasley on her toes as she tried to be a good hostess to everybody no matter how long they stayed or when they arrived. Eli checked up on Tonks, who sat through her ministrations with a bit of a wrinkle to her nose—she was sporting rose-pink hair, a testament to her mood, though—while Remus watched anxiously. “And she isn’t…that is to say…” He cleared his throat and gave Eli a rather helpless look. “There are no signs…”

“None, dad,” Eli reassured him gently. “You’ve nothing to worry about, I promise.”

It took Eli all of Christmas day to do it, but she finally worked up the courage to pull Bill aside when he and Fleur stopped by for dinner. He seemed surprised, but willingly stepped into the garden with her, out of earshot of everyone.

“So how…” Eli nearly stumbled over her words and paused to collect herself. “How have you been healing up?” she asked, thankfully in a decently steady voice.

Bill grinned rather gamely at her. “I’ve been doing fine, Eli. Remus was right about there being a few lasting side-effects, but everyone seems to agree I got off pretty lucky, so I’m not too bothered by it. You were the one who found me, right? Did the initial healing?”

She nodded slowly. “I…yes, that was me. That’s…actually why I wanted to talk to you, honestly.” He looked baffled, so she hurried to continue. “I might have…done something I oughtn’t to have done, but I swear, I was only trying to help.”

“What exactly happened?” He didn’t sound angry, thankfully—just confused.

“When I found you…” Eli sighed and passed a hand over her face. It had been easier to tell Newt and her dad about the whole thing, because it didn’t affect them this way. “It was… _bad_ , really bad. And even though it wasn’t the full moon, I was so worried about what might come of it… You see… I’d been working to…improve upon the Wolfsbane potion. And I had some of what seemed like a successful batch with me. And, well…” She shrugged helplessly. “I might’ve given you a bit.”

Bill’s eyes went wide. “An…experimental potion? You just sort of…gave it to me?”

“I did.” Eli squared her shoulders, searching for what inner bravery she possessed. “And I’m not sorry, all right? Because when I did that, some of the tainted blood was expelled from your system. It might well be why you haven’t suffered too badly. _And_ since then, my dad’s tested the same batch on the full moon—and it worked. Okay? I won’t apologize for doing it—I’m just sorry I waited so long to tell you.”

He sighed wearily, turning away for a moment to stare out over the fields. “Well…that probably wasn’t the best thing to do,” Bill told her finally. “But I think you know that, Eli. That’s why you didn’t tell me until now. But that said…” He turned back to her, smiling faintly. “I might just have you to thank for making it to my wedding. And you—did you say you’d actually managed to alter it successfully?”

“Yes. My dad tested it recently, it’s a single-dose version that’ll be cheaper and more accessible,” Eli admitted quietly. “I’m still keeping it under wraps for now, though, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t, y’know, go telling everyone about it. With everything that’s happening…”

Bill nodded sagely. “I won’t breathe a word.” He clapped her on the shoulder and smiled, a far sight from the frustration and betrayal she’d expected to see. “Thank you for helping me. Honest. Even if you went a bit outside what’s normally considered _right_ , I appreciate having my life stay as normal as it has.” He squeezed her shoulder once and made to go inside—but then he paused, looked back at her, and murmured, “Look after my brother, will you?”

She felt her whole face turn red. “I—I will. I swear.”

Long after he’d gone inside, Eli’s cheeks stayed bright red and her mind kept racing as she considered what Bill had said. She always felt that George was looking after her, not the other way around, and yet…she supposed maybe she was doing the same thing for him.

Eli went to stand in the doorway when her face cooled down, simply watching her boyfriend from across the room—he’d healed up just fine, though he’d forever be missing an ear, which made it easier for everyone else to tell the twins apart… But she’d hardly ever had a problem with it herself. Something had always just tipped her off, subtleties in their personalities or the way they held themselves, she didn’t know… They were very different, though, in their own way—for how else would she have fallen _so_ completely for George yet not feel anything similar towards Fred?

Was it…strange for them, she wondered, to have something so strikingly different now? Not just the physical aspect, the missing ear, but the difference in _people_ they’d fallen for. Simon was her best friend but they weren’t the _same_ , god, they complimented each other so neatly _because_ they were different. She and Simon were, inherently, the biggest difference between the twins without ever trying to be. Should she feel guilty for that?

“You’re thinking too hard over here, aren’t you?” George asked her with a smirk, crossing the room to take her hands. “Anything you want to tell me, love?”

Eli let the words spill out without trying to stop them. “Does it bother you to have…real differences with Fred?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well…me and Simon, you know… We sort of set you two apart in a way.” Eli shrugged and averted her gaze, feeling embarrassed she’d actually asked. “I just wondered if that felt odd to you, since everybody else seems to confuse you and think you’re practically the same person.”

“You were _definitely_ thinking too hard,” he snickered. “Fred’s still my twin, no matter who he dates. That doesn’t change anything. And _no_ , for the record, you shouldn’t feel guilty for setting us apart. Actually, you ought to be pleased we’re in love with two different people, otherwise it might cause some real problems between us.”

She snorted. “Fair point.”

George tugged at her hands and guided her back into the Burrow, ignoring the way she shuffled her feet just to make it more difficult on him. “Come on, we’re playing cards and your dad’s absolutely insisting on some muggle game you taught him, since he says me and Fred cheat at any magical one.”

“You _do_ cheat, though.”

“Yeah, so you’ve got to teach me how to cheat at muggle cards,” he teased.

Eli rolled her eyes but stopped dragging her feet all the same—not because she was going to teach George how to cheat, but because she was going to go kick her dad’s arse at cards and she was well looking forward to that.

\--

While it had been frigid and grey at the Burrow for Christmas, Hogsmeade was still blanketed in white when Eli got back, well in advance of the train so she’d have time to stow her things at the castle before the students arrived. Hagrid had already posted himself up at the station so she felt comfortable enough to do so—but it was _bitterly_ cold and by the time she trudged back into Hogsmeade, her fingers and toes were utterly frozen from the wind. Despite the cold and the stress, though, Eli was in good spirits. She’d brainstormed new ideas to fight the Death Eaters’ regime, her improved Wolfsbane potion was still working flawlessly, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn’t been captured. She wasn’t quite hopeful, but she had enough pushing her forward to handle going back, at least.

But when the train arrived, Ginny and Neville came racing off the train first, with Nancy on their heels, all three looking horrorstruck and pale. “Luna’s gone,” Ginny told her breathlessly. “She never made it onto the train back in London.”

“I bet she got taken.” Nancy’s voice was very grave and dark, uncharacteristically so. “Her dad kept writing things against you-know-who in his magazine.”

Eli passed a hand over her face. “I’ll make sure the right people know about her,” she told them, careful with her words in case anybody was listening in. “Just…be careful, please. I know what we’d talked about, but…” God, she hated this, but there was no other way to keep them safe now. “You need to pare it back, all right? I’ll do the same thing.”

Neville in particular looked incensed. “So…we do nothing, then? We don’t fight back?”

“Not when the risk is being dragged off to Merlin knows where,” Eli shot back. “This changes everything, all right? Before it was all just…tangible, punishments here, things I could intervene on… But if they take you away from the school I can’t protect you.” She crossed her arms, aiming for the most authoritative manner she could summon up. “Keep your noses clean. And yeah, that’s coming from a troublemaking Slytherin, so take I’d take it seriously if I were you.”

Though they complained about it, Eli did feel they would pay attention—something she saw to be true over the next few weeks. There was still a general air of dissent, a handful of disruptions and graffiti, et cetera, but nothing like the first term. Eli was glad for it, though it meant the Death Eaters were striding about with more confidence.

Outside the goings on at Hogwarts, there was a healthy amount of dissent as well—largely through the Order of the Phoenix, fighting back where they could. Lee Jordan, the twins’ friend and the school’s former Quidditch commentator, had started up a secret radio show called _Potterwatch_ that Eli occasionally listened into, hidden in her room and muffled by silencing charms, just to hear familiar voices. The twins were on frequently, and even her dad got involved regularly, so she knew they were all safe. They left messages for her, coded so only she would understand them—most often, it came in the form of George’s references to _blue skies_ , their own personal secret. Once she was the password to get into the broadcast— _Aubrielle_ —and more than once references were made to a _defender_ being on the frontlines, protecting students. Every little morsel meant the world to her.

But the radio broadcast brought terrible news too. Tonks’s dad was murdered, Dean Thomas went missing, Bathilda Bagshot was found dead… Countless other muggles, muggle-borns, half-bloods… Eli sometimes couldn’t bear to listen to the names of the dead. She felt, at times, as though she was _betraying_ the others by staying so close to the Death Eaters and not doing anything about it. Yet what could she do? She couldn’t take them all on by herself, and if something happened to her…who would look after the students?

The year wore on, and Eli struggled to keep herself going. Hagrid got in trouble for being too outspoken and was forced to flee the school, to go on the run… She held it together knowing her family was safe as they could be—her dad even took the risk to name her and try to reassure her on the broadcast—but it was getting harder and harder.

Then, just before Easter holidays, the news broke. Somehow the Death Eaters had found out that Ron was traveling with Harry, and had come down hard on the Weasley family. Eli got a hasty note delivered via an unfamiliar owl, written in code, but the meaning was clear. They were on the run, in the wind, and she couldn’t come try to find them over the break. It simply wasn’t safe for her, or for the Weasleys, and there was no way around it.

Eli was cut off.

She went straight to Gryffindor tower and all but bullied her way in—though she knew the password—only to find Ginny pacing in front of the fire, white in the face, with Neville sitting nearby with Ada, to her surprise.

“We’re in the same Herbology class,” Ada told her quietly, by way of explanation. “I heard the news.”

“It’s getting worse, Eli.” Ginny paused long enough to give her a helpless look. “They’re on me now that they know about Ron. The Carrows would’ve dragged me out of breakfast this morning if Neville hadn’t stopped them.”

That explained Neville’s new black eye, then.

Eli realized that for the first time in this whole thing, she couldn’t ask anybody for help. They were asking _her_ what to do, _she_ was fully in charge now since nobody else could be reached. She didn’t dare try to contact Remus, not with Tonks ready to pop any day, and god, she’d just lost her own father, Eli couldn’t possibly put them at risk. No, she was alone here.

“It’s useless to try and leave now,” she murmured. “Same reason I came back this year—because I’m a useful hostage. We all are, against our families or the Order, whoever. They’ll beat us and torture us here, but they won’t kill us. But the moment we step outside…”

Neville’s brow furrowed. “We won’t be useful anymore. Just liabilities.”

Ada pushed to her feet, looking eerily pale. “I’m going to get Nancy and Naomi,” she announced. “Hardly anybody even knows I talk to you anyway, I’ll be fine. But they won’t be. Naomi was friends with Luna, and everybody knows Nancy’s been working with you, Eli. They’re targets.”

“Go.” Eli squeezed her shoulder as she passed. “But be quick, Ada. And if anything happens, there’s a way out behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. Tap her hump and say _dissendium_ , it’ll get you out in a pinch, or at least give you a place to hide until I come looking. All right? Be smart about it, please.”

The auburn-haired girl nodded firmly. “ _Dissendium_. One-eyed witch. Got it.”

Eli moved to sit on the sofa and pulled Ginny down beside her, stilling the girl’s nervous fidgeting. A few other DA members lingered nearby, drawn by her presence, she assumed, probably waiting to see what would happen next. Eli was beginning to put together a plan, albeit of the weak, last-resort type, but it was all she could think of. She didn’t feel like a very good Slytherin for how pitiful it was, but what else could she do with a group of endangered students and next to zero resources?

_More._

That was the answer.

She could do more than this, Eli knew it, she just had to find the goddamned answers. She’d altered the Wolfsbane potion! For Merlin’s sake, she was more capable than this!

By the time Ada got back with Nancy and Naomi in tow, as well as a few other displaced DA members from various houses, Eli had a plan. A real, tangible one worthy of a Slytherin, the child of a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw—cunning, bravery, wit… All of it. She could do this, she could pull it off, and save all these kids’ lives in the process.

“Right. We’re going somewhere safe,” Eli announced, once everybody was paying attention.

Nancy tipped her head to one side. “Where? I didn’t think it was safe to leave the castle, isn’t that what you said?”

“It is, but we don’t have to leave the castle.” She looked round at all the tired, mostly bruised faces, and sucked in a deep breath. “We’ll hide right under their noses.”

“How?” asked Seamus Finnegan, frowning at her, ever the skeptic. “Where can we possibly hide?”

But Neville looked rather…enlightened. “That’s _brilliant_ , Eli.”

“I don’t get it,” Parvati Patil murmured tentatively. “Where are we going?”

Eli crossed her arms over her chest. “The same place we practiced with the DA back when Harry was teaching us. We’ll hide out in the Room of Requirement. The door will vanish behind us, the Death Eaters won’t be able to get in once we reinforce it a bit, and I can put up all kinds of protection too. We will need to go carefully, there’s a lot of us, too many to go at once—and we’ll want to take supplies in with us too. But we’ll be safe there.”

“Nancy and I can get things from the kitchens,” Ada offered. “We’ve been going since first year.”

“Ginny, Naomi, and I can help get everyone from here up to the room,” Neville chimed in quickly. “We’ve gotten really good at sneaking around the Death Eaters. And we’ll bring all the blankets and pillows and stuff from here in the dormitories, just in case we need extras.”

Though instinctively she didn’t want to let them take charge here, Eli trusted them to handle it. So rather than arguing she just nodded and accepted it. “We’ve got to be quick, though.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Neville caused a flurry of activity—immediately he, Ginny, and Naomi began divvying up the students amassed in the common room, mostly by age and level of fear, and Eli effectively inserted herself into the group with the youngest students, for protection. Nancy and Ada raced off to the kitchens, starting the whole thing off, and soon enough the plan was fully in motion.

It took nearly three hours to get everybody safely into the Room of Requirement. Not because they had so many kids—it was barely twenty, by Eli’s count—but because it was necessary to take such small groups, for safety. Finally though, every at-risk student Eli could take responsibility for was set up inside. Ada and Nancy had roped a couple of house elves into helping them ferry everything all the way from the kitchens, since they’d befriended some after spending five years visiting the kitchens in secret. Kindness went a very long way, with some house elves. The Room of Requirement itself had given them a lovely setup too, with hammocks and bunks all over, and comfortable sitting areas for the day. Everything was well-lit and homey, which was good for younger students and older ones alike, since they were all effectively refugees within the castle.

Eli was mainly glad the room had decorated itself, rather than leaving everything sparse, because it lent a certain friendliness to everything. There were even portraits like there were out in the rest of the castle, which felt to her as though they were _meant_ to be in that room—as though they weren’t the first group to seek longer-term refuge within the Room of Requirement. She wasn’t sure if that was comforting or not.

The first night, there was plenty of sniffling and tossing and turning before the room fell silent. Yet Eli sat up, wand out and gripped in her hand as she watched where the door would appear, where the Death Eaters might try to break through. She had put up every protective enchantment she could think of, and asked some of the others to strengthen them, but she couldn’t stop worrying. In bringing them here, these students had become _her_ responsibility. If anything happened to them it was on her head, so she wouldn’t risk that—even if it meant catching awkward hours of sleep while the others were awake. She’d gladly pay that price for everyone else’s safety.

After a couple shaky days, with near arguments and a couple students threatening to walk out, everything sort of…settled. Eli was still barely sleeping, of course, but she could handle that. It was better than risking the students’ lives.

They lasted a week before Eli began to worry about food. She was trying to ration it without letting the kids know what was going on—though Neville, Ginny, Nancy, Ada, and Naomi were all involved in the process as well—but it was difficult with so many kids to feed and not nearly enough food to go around indefinitely. She attempted to leave, but the Room of Requirement created a translucent panel and showed her Death Eaters prowling the corridor, which meant leaving was out of the question.

It still created a serious food problem.

By the end of March, Eli was nearly panicking. She began planning to leave, deciding if she could slip out and distract the Death Eaters then the others could bring food back… Which Nancy called _suicide_ quite decisively and put that plan to rest.

March 31st ticked over into April 1st with Eli sitting in the corner of the room, knees drawn to her chest, struggling not to cry. If she got all these poor kids killed because she couldn’t manage to feed them… God, she’d never forgive herself, if she even lived to do so. This had been her grand scheme and it was falling apart right before her eyes. Not to mention it was the twins’ birthday and she had no idea where they were, if they were all right, safe…

On the far wall, one of the mobile-but-silent paintings gave her a sad look. Eli averted her gaze from the young woman depicted there. She’d noticed the portraits giving them all doe eyes recently, as though watching them starve to death was some sort of Greek tragedy.

Then the portrait gave her a little wave, beckoning her over.

Eli scowled at her and did nothing.

The next thing she knew, the young woman was crossing through paintings rapidly, moving faster than Eli had thought really possible, until she stood just over Eli’s head and could stare her down with firmly-crossed arms.

“Why d’you want me to go over there?” Eli asked her softly, wrinkling her nose. “Are Death Eaters coming?”

The young woman shook her head. She glanced round the room, looking terribly worried, before pressing both hands to her abdomen and making a pained face. Then she pointed at her open mouth insistently, eyes bright, miming what appeared to be eating.

“Yes, we’re running out of food,” Eli muttered. “I know.”

A frustrated sort of silent huff. The portrait girl pointed at Eli, very firmly, then back at her own portrait.

Well, Eli figured she might as well give this girl the attention she wanted, otherwise she’d be distracted until the young woman got bored and went away. And she _needed_ to have her wits about her, especially since the Death Eaters were always lurking closeby. She couldn’t risk them getting inside, not for a moment.

The young woman beamed at her happily once Eli had crossed the room and stood in front of her painting. She pointed behind her with a helpful finger—and then, soundless and smooth, the portrait _swung open_.

Eli took a step back in alarm, nearly tripping over a large stuffed chair. “Bloody hell,” she whispered. “A new secret passageway.”

Her heart racing with renewed hope, Eli darted across the room and shook Neville awake. He looked up at her blearily, rubbing sleep from his eyes and sitting up, already going for his wand. “It’s all right, there’s nothing wrong,” Eli told him quickly. “I’ve just…” She gestured helplessly at the wall behind her. “There’s a new passageway, behind that painting. I’m going to check it out. If I’m not back in two hours, seal it off, all right?”

Neville stared at her. “But you can’t go _alone_ , Eli. No way.”

She frowned at him, unwilling to be deterred. “I need you to stay here, though. You’re the next strongest fighter, Neville. And the kids will listen to you, besides.”

“Then take Ginny or Nancy or somebody,” Neville urged, nearly begged her. “You need backup.”

“Oh, all right.” There wasn’t time to argue, anyway. So Eli went and got Nancy up, from the girl’s chosen bed underneath the room’s Slythering trappings, pleased when she shot right to her feet.

“A new passageway?” Nancy repeated, once Eli had explained. “Wicked. I’m in.” She grabbed her wand from under her pillow, stuffed it into the pocket of her dressing gown, and followed Eli right across the room. The portrait was still wide open, so the two mounted the few steps leading into it and plunged immediately into darkness.

Eli flicked her wand and lit the tip. They were inside a large stone passageway, dotted with lamps and walled by weathered stones. It didn’t seem new, rather _old_ , older than most of the school’s usual passages. But judging by the cobwebs and general sense of disuse, they were the first to traverse it in a very, very long time. That was comforting, though. It meant the Death Eaters hadn’t come this way either.

“Where do you think this goes?” Nancy asked softly, reaching up to find a knob on the nearest oil lamp.

“No idea. But that girl in the portrait, she mimed something about food, I think,” Eli murmured. “And honestly, at this point I’m willing to do just about anything for food. Going here beats facing down the Death Eaters, at least.”

Nancy grinned tightly. “Here’s hoping.” She twisted the knob and the whole wall of lamps ignited, sending flickering orange light scattering down the passage.

Eli glanced at her. “Keep your wand out. Trace or not, we can’t risk going unarmed into an ambush.”

Thankfully, Nancy was smart, and obeyed without question. Now without the worry of tripping or finding stairs unexpectedly, the two forged onward, Eli clearing cobwebs here and there while keeping her eyes out for any Death Eaters or worse. But the tunnel was utterly deserted. She couldn’t even hear anything besides their footsteps, so when they found the end it was all rather abrupt and unexpected.

At the bottom of a few stone steps, a door—perhaps another portrait—swung open. Eli instructed Nancy to wait in the passage, and then headed down herself.

She emerged in a dimly-lit pub, out of view of most of the windows. There was a painting on this end as well, Eli noted, so she assumed it was a matched set to the young woman’s back in the Room of Requirement. Though _how_ it existed she hadn’t yet figured out.

“It’s all right,” a gruff voice told her. “You’re safe here.”

Eli leapt down and pointed her wand in the direction of the voice, half-expecting an attack. But what she did _not_ expect was the barkeep from the ruddy Hog’s Head to step out of the shadows, bearded and coarse as she remembered. She wasn’t certain of his _name_ , though, which was rather embarrassing.

“Put that thing away,” he grumbled irritably. “I’m not here to hurt you. Name’s Aberforth. You might recognize me from a few years back, when you lot thought you’d have a secret meeting here in my pub.”

She quashed the urge to blush in embarrassment. “That wasn’t my idea,” she denied. “Why did you want me to come here? I’m assuming you sent the portrait.”

A different look came over his face—something softer, oddly enough. “Ariana relayed that you kids have holed up in there without enough food to last. Thought it was time I stepped in and helped, much as I can.”

“Helped,” Eli repeated numbly. She couldn’t even summon up proper hope. “You mean…”

Aberforth moved slightly out of sight and came back with two enormous burlap bags, hefted over each shoulder, which he placed at her feet. “There. That ought to hold you for a bit longer. You can have your friend come out of the tunnel and help, you’re in no danger here, Miss Lupin.”

That, more than anything, made her suck in a breath and step away from him. “How do you know my name? How do you know _that_ name?”

“Well, other than keeping an eye on renegade children up at the castle, I do have some contact with the Order of the Phoenix,” he explained, rather impatiently. “Seems it’d be my business to know who’s fightin’ on which side. Your dad asked after you, last I saw him, wanted to know if I’d heard anything.”

Eli’s throat went sandpaper-dry at the mention of her father.

“I told him what I could. Said I was to ask you to be careful, if I came across you, so there’s that.” Aberforth shook his head. “Now, do you want this food or not?”

She swallowed hard. There would be time to think about her dad later, once the kids were fed. “Please.” Eli leaned back and called for Nancy, who eagerly hopped down and grinned widely at Aberforth. If he was bothered by the appearance of two Slytherins in his pub, he didn’t comment on it, thankfully.

“I heard everything. So you’re going to help keep us fed?” she asked.

Aberforth grunted. “Seems that way.”

Nancy positively beamed at him in return, and stuck out a hand to shake his. “Nancy Clements, Slytherin fifth year. Nice to meet you, sir. And thank you.”

Eli could spot sugary-politeness a mile away. Nancy just wanted him to have a positive impression of their little ragtag group, so he’d be more likely to continue aiding them after tonight. It was pure calculated Slytherin cunning, mixed with a touch of genuine kindness, something she had to respect. Especially since Nancy was likely covering for her own initial defensiveness. Not her finest moment, admittedly.

With another round of _thank yous_ , Eli levitated the bags and set off back down the passage with Nancy leading the way, feeling infinitely more hopeful about the whole thing. They had a food source, _and_ a way out. Aberforth could get them out through Hogsmeade, if it came to it. This changed everything.


	27. A Loss Too Great

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The battle is beginning. I'm in such a state because we're really racing towards the end here - so as always, I hope you enjoy what I've written, and thank you SO MUCH for supporting this story!

The next month passed much more smoothly. With Aberforth’s help, the kids thrived as much as they possibly could, while remaining in the Room of Requirement. It took a little trial and error, but Neville figured out the trick to getting what he wanted in the Room, so they expanded to two levels, better sleeping arrangements, more elegant trappings from each house, and most importantly a cabinet that could safely deposit them out in Hogwarts. The trick was, it never let them out near Death Eaters, so it was impossible to predict where one might end up. Eli was the only one to really go out, though she let Neville and the other seventh-years go with Disillusionment Charms on occasionally.

Broadcasts on _Potterwatch_ became less and less frequent, and more harried when they did happen. Eli started to let Naomi handle it, since she was usually the calmest of the group and could relay any important information to her later. It was just too painful to hear the stress in her loved ones’ voices.

A couple times each week, Eli ventured out and sought additional students who might be able to slip away. She brought in only a handful, for that was all she managed to get alone, but the ones she did bring were endlessly grateful. And with Aberforth’s help, they all stayed fed and healthy.

Eli took to sleeping a few hours a night, which utterly saved her sanity, allowing the students she trusted most to take watch shifts. Because of that, it just so happened that she was napping during the midafternoon while Neville and Ada were on watch, that she missed Ariana coming by to get somebody to follow her. She awoke to Ada shaking her, Nancy hovering in the background bouncing on her toes with Ginny beside her, and sat bolt upright immediately. “Did something happen?” she blurted. “Where’s Neville?”

“He’s gone down to Ab’s,” Ada explained, her tone low and careful. “She seemed pretty…excited about something, so he thought he should go check it out. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Ariana was excited about something?” Eli repeated, feeling dumb from sleep and rather as though she was still in a dream. “It’s not time for another food delivery, though. What’s she going on about?” She rose to her feet and shook out her curls, too distracted to bother with a hairbrush.

Nancy shrugged. “Dunno. But Neville will be fine, he’s plenty strong.”

“Still, we’ve never seen Ariana act that way,” Ginny pointed out, crossing her arms. “I’m going to watch the cabinet, just in case.” She hurried off and up the stairs to the second level, vanishing in a flash of red hair.

Eli stretched her arms above her head and tugged her wand from her pocket. She wanted to be ready, just in case.

The portrait swung open, and Neville stuck his head round the frame with a wide grin splitting his face. “Hey!” he shouted, his voice buoyant with excitement. “Listen up, you lot! I’ve brought you a surprise!” He pushed the painting the whole way open, stepped out and to the side, revealing…

Eli’s jaw dropped. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed Neville down the stairs, all looking various degrees of disheveled and anxious. For a moment, the whole room was silent—but then cheers erupted, and the students crowded round them all, Harry especially, twittering questions and practically mobbing the poor boy.

“All right, let him breathe,” Neville laughed. He touched Naomi’s shoulder lightly. “Get word out to Remus and the others, if you can,” he told her under his breath.

Feeling almost in a trance, Eli stepped forward and grabbed Harry in her arms, relief sagging her shoulders when he embraced her back. He was _alive_! Somehow, the three had made it all the way back here! “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she told him honestly, when she managed to release him.

Harry grinned a bit crookedly. “I’m glad _you_ are.”

The painting swung open again, and Eli turned round to see who else had come. She assumed Naomi’s message had reached some of the Order, but she didn’t know who to expect, who was still in contact, who would dare risk coming here. So when Luna stepped through, followed closely by Dean Thomas, she wasn’t disappointed—just not overjoyed either. That was, until more figures stepped down from the passageway.

Eli stifled a cry as she lunged forward and all but tackled Simon, laughing as she clung to him and he wrapped her up tight in a hug. But moments later somebody tapped her shoulder and she released him, turned… And, with a choked sob, fell straight into George’s arms.

“It’s all right, love,” he whispered into her hair.

“You know, Simes, I don’t think she’s all that thrilled to see us,” Fred commented mildly.

Eli lifted her head and gave him a weary smile. “I’m happy to see _all_ of you, Fred,” she told him. Behind Fred, she could see Lee Jordan had come as well, looking at ease with the whole thing. She didn’t even have the words to express how grateful she was to see them all alive—yet nothing compared to finally, finally being back with George again. She still hadn’t been able to let go of him, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist and practically gluing herself to his side. But honestly, she felt justified since he’d put his arm round her shoulders and refused to move it.

When everybody had settled down, most taking seats nearby and looking up eagerly, Neville turned a determined sort of smile on Harry. “Right then. What’s the plan, Harry?”

That made Harry look a bit anxious, though. He stared out at the amassed students, something akin to awe crossing his face as he just took them all in. Everybody was eager, ready to do whatever he required, not a drop of doubt or hesitance. “Okay,” he agreed finally. “There’s something we need to fine, something hidden here in the castle.”

“What is it?” asked Neville.

Harry winced visibly. “We don’t know.”

Nancy leaned forward from where she’d tipped against the wall and asked, “Then _where_ is it?”

“We don’t know that either,” Harry admitted. “I realize that’s not much to go on.”

Seamus Finnegan scoffed. “That’s nothing to go on.”

Giving him a sideways look, Naomi stepped forward and folded her arms. “So what _do_ you know, Harry?” she asked.

He seized that immediately. “We think it might have something to do with Ravenclaw. It would be small, easy to conceal, valuable. Any ideas?”

Eli furrowed her brow. She had no clue what something like that might be.

“Well,” Luna began dreamily, offering her own answer, “there’s Rowena Ravenclaw’s lost diadem.”

Naomi twisted her mouth up. “Yes, but that’s just the thing, Lu. It’s _lost_. No one has seen it, not for centuries. There’s no one alive who can tell us about it.”

“But what the bloody hell’s a diadem anyway?” Ron asked.

Another Ravenclaw named Cho Chang spoke up then. “It’s a sort of crown, like a tiara. Ravenclaw’s was supposed to have magical properties, too. At least, that’s the rumor. It enhanced the wisdom of the wearer.”

“Still lost,” Naomi muttered.

There was a clattering of footsteps down the stairs, and Ginny rushed into the center of the room, hair mussed and eyes wide. “Harry,” she gasped.

He lifted a hand in a sort of timid greeting. “Hi there.”

While the boys ribbed each other, Eli was staring at Ginny wondering what exactly had caused her to run in that way. “Ginny, is something the matter?” she asked.

Ginny forced her gaze away from Harry and gave Eli a worried look. “I went out, just for a moment, since I thought something might be wrong… And…” She clenched her fists at her sides. “Snape knows. I heard the Death Eaters talking, he knows that Harry was spotted in Hogsmeade. He’s not an idiot, he’ll connect the dots and figure out that he’s come into the castle by now.”

“He’ll be in for a rude awakening, then,” George told them a bit grimly. “The rest of the Order’s just behind us.”

“There’s a big assembly that’s been called,” Ginny added. “Snape wants all the students in the Great Hall.”

Harry set his jaw. “Then we’ll give him what he wants.”

They laid their plan out quickly. Someone produced an extra set of Gryffindor robes for Harry, while the rest of the students changed into their own, and they all snuck out of the cabinet in small groups, joining the throng of students heading to the Great Hall—Harry right in their midst, surrounded by his fellow Gryffindors and virtually invisible among them. Meanwhile Eli waited with those who couldn’t blend in so easily—those who stood out in a crowd or wanted to hang back—for the rest of the Order to come through Aberforth and Ariana’s passage.

“We haven’t got long,” she fretted, pacing anxiously near the painting. “I thought you said they were coming soon?”

George caught her wrist and forced her to stop. “They are, love. Don’t worry.”

She couldn’t stop near-panicking, though. “Then where are they?”

Simon tapped her shoulder. “Right there, Eli. See?”

Eli turned to see the painting opening yet again, relief draining the tension from her body when Kingsley walked through first. Then, to her surprise, Bill and Fleur came through, both grim-faced and determined. Even more shockingly, _Rosalyn_ walked through just a step behind Fleur, crossing to greet Simon in a rather friendly way. Eli could only guess she’d gotten involved in the Order recently and they’d begun to mend some fences. Mr. Weasley followed, with Mrs. Weasley just behind—one arm firmly caught round the sleeve of none other than Percy Weasley. Apparently he’d taken his head out of his arse and stopped licking the Minister’s boots. Eli was just rising to greet him first, to make him feel welcome since she could see the unease on his face, but a final person stepped down from the passageway and she nearly tripped on a rug.

“Dad!” Eli yelped, lunging forward and throwing her arms around his neck. She knew, she absolutely _knew_ the others hadn’t told her just to see how she’d react—but she didn’t ruddy care. All that mattered was her dad was safe too.

He pulled her in close and Eli felt, for a moment, that he must’ve been just as worried as she was.

“You see, Remus?” Kingsley chuckled. “We told you she’d be fine.”

Leaning back and giving him a disparaging look, her dad muttered, “Well, it’s one thing to believe it… Quite another to have proof.”

Eli extricated herself and took his hands tightly. “How’s Tonks? She’s—well I would’ve thought…”

“April fifth,” he told her in a forcibly hushed voice. “We named him Edward, after Dora’s father.”

Despite the situation, despite all the stress and fear, Eli felt warmth rise up through her chest. “That’s wonderful, dad, honest. So she’s stayed back with him, then.”

“Tell her the rest, Remus,” Mr. Weasley urged rather knowingly.

Remus shifted on his feet and nodded. “Yes, well, despite all my concerns, you were quite right—he takes after his mum, entirely. Teddy’s a metamorphmagus just like Dora, changes his hair color every few hours ever since he was born.”

Eli poked him in the chest. “See, I did tell you!”

“We should get going,” Kingsley interjected, before they could get too distracted. “I believe this was quite an urgent errand, wasn’t it?”

“They’re meeting in the Great Hall,” Eli hurried to tell him. “We’ve been taking a different exit, it pops us out anywhere away from the Death Eaters, but with all of us I think we’ll be safe just going out the front. They’ll all be downstairs anyway, with Snape’s ruddy summons.”

She led the way out, giving one last rather fond look to their hideaway within the Room of Requirement before letting the stone door shut and leaving it behind. Then, quiet as such a large group could, they all headed down to the Great Hall with wands at the ready. Just as Eli had thought, all the Death Eaters were inside, no doubt because he assumed it was merely students who had let Harry in, and that only students would be acting out—no one would expect the entire remainder of the Order of the Phoenix to show up.

Through the large double doors, Eli could hear Snape speaking to the students. They were eerily silent now, as always, fearful of retribution if they dared speak out of turn. As she listened, anger tightening her chest, George slipped a hand into hers and squeezed down, offering comfort. He always seemed to know what was in her mind.

“Now then,” Snape continued, finished laying down threats. “If anyone here has any knowledge of Mr. Potter’s movements this evening…I invite them to step forward. Now.”

Eli glanced round at the Order and gave them a nod. She knew Harry well enough to figure he’d take that opportunity—since the whole intent here was to catch Snape and the Death Eaters off guard, it would be the best moment to reveal himself.

Sure enough, footsteps echoed along the stone floor, dotted by gasps of shock and the occasional stunned cry of Harry’s name.

“It would seem,” Harry’s voice rang out confidently, “that despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster.”

Kingsley stepped around Eli and pushed the door open, Remus taking the other, and en masse the Order flooded the back of the Great Hall, wands drawn, shoulders squared. Eli glanced out of the corner of her eye to check on the younger ones—Neville, Dean, Ron, Hermione, Luna—but they seemed just as confident.

“And I’m afraid it’s quite extensive,” Harry continued, satisfaction creeping into his tone.

Eli saw, at the front of the Hall, the Death Eaters quailing and staring at each other. None of them had been prepared to face the Order, just like they thought.

“How dare you stand where he stood,” Harry all but snarled, and took several steps towards Snape. “Tell them how it was that night! Tell them how you looked him in the eye, a man who _trusted_ you—and killed him! _Tell them!_ ”

Snape, gaze unflinching, stepped from the parapet and moved towards Harry.

But then Professor McGonagall, swathed in green velvet as always, strode from among her Gryffindors and came to stand in front of Harry, wand out defensively. Eli had always known McGonagall cared for her students—yet this was above and beyond. She was truly a spectacular woman, and Eli found herself glad to have known her at all.

Snape’s lip curled, and he raised his wand—yet McGonagall beat him to it. Fire surged from her wand, streaming towards him, perfectly-aimed and so hot it made the air shimmer. Snape parried, deflected, but McGonagall was on him again with more fire, advancing, fierce like nothing Eli had seen before. Yet again, Snape deflected the attack but didn’t return it, merely allowing himself to be walked backwards each time, until finally he stood near where the podium ought to be. Then, before McGonagall could attack again, he swathed himself in black smoke and fled out the stained glass window behind him.

For a moment, the room was triumphant—but then a horrible, aching _hiss_ filled Eli’s head and she staggered, clutching her skull. All around her, she could see the others reacting, students and Order members alike, everyone affected by the awful sound.

Then a voice whispered right into her mind.

“ _I know that many of you will want to fight… Some of you may even think to fight is wise. But this is folly._ ”

Eli’s knees felt shaky, her whole body shuddering.

“ _Give me Harry Potter. Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched._ ” It was no longer a request but a demand, an undercurrent of threat and malice leaving Eli breathless and stricken with horror. “ _Give me Harry Potter… And you shall be rewarded. You have one hour._ ”

The pressure inside her skull released, and Eli staggered, panting hard as she lifted her head. Everyone looked varying degrees of shell-shocked, terrified, and utterly lost. She reached out and took George’s hand for a moment, squeezing hard until he managed to meet her gaze—she’d never seen him so pale.

Then, voice high and shrill, Pansy Parkinson stepped forward and pointed at Harry. “What are you waiting for?” she demanded. “Someone grab him!”

Ginny, eyes alight with anger, strode forward from the crowd and stood in front of Harry.

Even as other students joined her, standing in support, Nancy scowled and shoved Pansy aside. The older girl looked almost afraid of her. “Oh, sod off, Parkinson,” she snapped furiously. “You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

Through the double doors, Filch came limp-running in holding Mrs. Norris in his arms, shouting, “Students out of bed! Students in the corridor!”

McGonagall gave him a disparaging look. “They are _supposed_ to be out of bed, you blithering idiot!”

Filch halted in the middle of the room, staring at her in bewilderment. “Oh. Sorry, ma’am.”

Continuing on without a hitch, McGonagall told him brusquely, “As it happens, Mr. Filch, your arrival is most opportune. If you would, I would like you to please lead Miss Parkinson and her companions from the Great Hall.”

He nodded and beckoned, a handful of Slytherins peeling off to follow him with their heads low—but then Filch paused and turned back, confused. “And—exactly where is it I’ll be leadin’ ‘em to, ma’am?”

McGonagall eyed Pansy Parkinson down her nose. “Their dormitory would suffice. They’ll be quite secure in the dungeons.”

While Filch led them out, Nancy was flitting to and fro among the Slytherins, confirming everyone’s intent to remain behind and sending those who seemed unsure off after Filch. She was a blur of brown hair and fierce eyes as she worked, drawing their house into some kind of positive, fighting shape. It was so, so justifying to see her house actually _supporting_ Harry at this point, after existing so long with such a negative cast to them.

Once the students were rallied, the hall broke into a flurry of activity. McGonagall set everyone to their tasks, mostly protecting Hogwarts so Harry could have time to search for the diadem. Eli stuck close to the Order as they set up all manner of protective enchantments, spells all forming an enormous protective shield round the castle. It wouldn’t last long, she knew, but it would buy them some time. That was all they needed, hopefully. Time. And once the shield fell…it would be down to the Order and a handful of students, some of age and some under, to hold the Death Eaters off until Harry completed his mission.

Finally, it came time for the Order to fan out and cover different areas of the castle. It was imperative they spread out, to better protect everyone inside, but Eli hated it with a passion. She intended to stay with Simon and the twins, but that meant leaving her dad with Kingsley—so before he went off, she caught him in the tightest embrace she could muster and begged him, “Please stay safe, dad… Please…”

He caught her face between his hands and kissed her forehead. “I’ll do my best. You look after yourself too, love. I’ll see you when this is all over.”

Eli released him and stood beside George while her dad walked away, her feet absolutely rooted to the spot until he vanished around a corner. She couldn’t stand having the people she loved separated like this, she just couldn’t.

“He’ll be all right, Eli,” George told her softly. “Remus is strong enough to handle himself.”

“Knowing that doesn’t make me less worried,” she sighed. “About any of you.”

Simon ruffled her hair and squeezed her shoulder, visibly trying to look convinced. “Well, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You’re on-site healing service.”

“Here’s hoping,” Eli muttered.

The four took their places up on the battlements, watching the amassing army across the way, Eli and Simon standing upon a separate balcony just a few feet away from them. She kept shifting on her feet, uncomfortable, her nerves making her heart pound in her throat.

But then, Dean Thomas appeared and stuck his head round the edge. “McGongall wants me to send you over to Remus and Kingsley,” he told the twins. “Most of the Death Eaters are on that side.”

Eli looked up sharply at George, who met her gaze with his lips pressed together tightly. “Sure, Dean,” he agreed slowly. “Yeah, we’ll go support them. See where our dad’s got to, he might come round with us too.”

He and Fred stepped off the balcony, and Eli rushed off as well, Simon at her heels. “Be careful,” she begged George, clutching at him, knowing it was useless to try and stop him.

George kissed her hard, harder than he usually dared in public. “I love you,” he breathed, with his forehead pressed to hers, eyes fierce. “And—if we get out of this, if we manage to see the other ruddy side…” His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “I want to marry you, Eli. I swear, I’d do it now if I thought we had time.”

Eli’s throat burned with a sudden, repressed sob. At any other moment, she might’ve smacked him for it, but right then she _wanted_ it so badly. “If we make it through,” she whispered, “then we’ll have Kingsley do it right here in the castle. I promise you.”

With one last, fierce kiss, he was gone—and Eli stood with her hands pressed over her heart, eyes shut tight, fighting back tears she didn’t have the time to release.

“C’mon, Eli,” Simon murmured, touching her shoulder. “He’ll be all right.”

She turned a weary look on him. “Yeah? So will Fred.”

Simon wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her back out onto the balcony. He was right—they had a job to do, and worrying about their displaced loved ones wouldn’t help them do it. And Eli had to keep her wits about her. Whether or not she had conviction in her career choices, it didn’t matter here. She was the closest Healer, if something awful happened out here on the walls, so she’d do her duty and not back down. It was all she could do.

Ahead, against a volley of spells from the Death Eaters, the shield held. It flickered blue-white against the dark sky, shimmered, but held fast. Eli gritted her teeth as she watched. When—not if—that shield fell, they’d be overrun by Death Eaters in moments. There was no avoiding this battle.

Then, from within the mass of Death Eaters, a single bolt of energy flew out—a spell, more powerful than anything she’d seen ever before. In her heart, she knew it was Voldemort.

The spell impacted the shield, and in moments, it shattered and began to fade. Eli reached out and grabbed Simon’s hand, tight as she could. “Stay close to me, Simon.”

He squeezed right back. “You too.”

And as the Death Eaters flooded the castle, rushing upon them in plumes of black smoke, Eli could only raise her wand and fight back. There was nothing else to do, it was them or her, and she had a duty to keep herself alive.

In the chaos that ensued, Eli only remembered glimpses—Simon, fighting for all his worth. Throwing herself to the ground to avoid a Killing Curse, which missed her by mere inches. Ducking, dodging, running. Fleeing their appointed area when they were completely overrun, flinging spells over their shoulders as they went.

Finally Eli dragged Simon into an offshoot hallway and doubled back, the two running full-tilt until they nearly crashed into Mrs. Weasley. She took one look at them and flung her arms around the two, holding them tight. “Oh, thank goodness you’re all right,” she breathed. “Arthur sent me—asked me to find him at the other side. I can’t stay, but—oh, be careful, please!” She kissed both their foreheads and then hurried on, in the opposite direction to the Death Eaters.

Simon looked at Eli anxiously. “If Arthur left…”

“They’re down a person,” she finished tightly. “Come on. We’ve got to go!”

They took off running again, Eli fighting a stitch in her side, and came out into an enormous battle. Eli saw a Death Eater facing off with George and reacted, sending him flying end over end and crashing into the far wall with a sickening _crunch_. But she didn’t have time to spare an extra thought for him, because his companion near the end of the hall saw what she’d done and sent a bright-red curse straight at her head. Eli ducked, flung herself behind a column, and blindly sent a spell in retaliation. When she stuck her head back out, she saw she’d hit her mark, thankfully. In all her schooling, she definitely had her dad to thank for most of it.

“Eli!” George shouted, catching her in his arms and kissing her. “Bloody hell, I went to find you and you weren’t there, I thought-”

“We doubled back,” she told him quickly. “We’re okay, we’re fine. Where are the others?”

George shot a tense look at Simon. “Fred and Percy were a floor down, last I saw. It’s bloody madness out there, I can hardly keep track of anybody.”

“I’m going to find Fred,” Simon announced, before turning and racing off on his own down the hall. Eli knew she couldn’t have stopped him if she tried, but it still hurt to lose sight of him, after they’d been watching each other’s backs this whole time. But she was infinitely grateful to have George with her, at least.

He squeezed her shoulder tightly. “He’ll be fine. We should see if anybody’s left up here, I don’t want more Death Eaters filtering down if we can help it.”

“Right.” Eli followed him without question, breaking off from a few other students and beginning to search the floor for any remaining Death Eaters. They fended a couple off and sealed a couple entrances, but for the most part it seemed they had all moved lower. Which wasn’t good, really, they were all funneling down and trying to overwhelm the others. She was just opening her mouth to suggest they move downstairs, when Nancy came tearing up the staircase, bleeding from her temple, hair snarled, and eyes wide in terror. “Eli,” she gasped, clutching at Eli’s wrist tightly. “You’ve got to come quickly, it’s Remus, he’s—it’s bad, I…”

“Show me.” The words came out strangled.

Nancy turned and raced back down, and Eli followed her, breath ragged, the world spinning before her eyes. She could feel her side aching, her head pounding, every inch of her begging her to stop—but her heart urged her on, on, on. Her dad was hurt. Her worst fears had been realized.

They hit the bottom of the staircase amid chaos, but Nancy was quick, leading Eli on a winding path through the battle and out of the hallway, down another, and finally almost out into the front courtyard. As soon as Eli saw, she sprinted past Nancy, shoved two DA members aside, and flung herself to the ground.

Her father lay still amid the rubble, bleeding through a rip in his shirt, his chest moving only feebly. Tonks was beside him, though Eli had no clue when she’d joined the battle, with her hands gripped iron-tight around his hand, her face very pale.

“Move,” Eli ordered her shortly.

Tonks looked up at her, ire rising in her gaze, and opened her mouth to protest—but George caught her under the arms and pulled her away. “Let her work, Tonks,” he urged quietly. “Eli’s got this.”

She only wished she had the same faith in herself.

Eli yanked her Healer’s bag out and set a pair of scissors to cutting away some of his shirt with a flick of her wand, while she searched for everything she needed. Her hands were trembling, so badly it had to be visible to the others, but she couldn’t mess this up, she couldn’t, if she failed and he…

Her hands stilled. No. Career or no career, Eli _would_ save her father. She wasn’t going to let him die here.

Precise and swift now, she snatched up her vial of Dittany and started there, her eyes only skimming over the wound to ascertain how it might’ve been caused. She didn’t have time to eke a story out of Tonks or Nancy, whoever might’ve seen it— _if_ they’d seen it—she just had to figure it out and make decisions within moments, or he’d lose too much blood and that would be it. Immediately she knew it was a magical wound, not a physical one, something she couldn’t just assume with these Death Eaters and their dirty fighting. Magical wound meant she had a sense for what to do—but even with the Dittany it just wasn’t closing up fast enough.

Eli gave him a blood-replenishing potion while she worked on another option. If Dittany wasn’t acting quickly enough, she needed to freeze the area, either physically or magically, to give it time to work…

Her dad’s eyes flickered open and he regarded her, reaching up a shaky hand to brush along her cheek. “Eli…”

“Shh, don’t,” she cut him off quickly. “Save your strength.” Unable to hold his gaze, she turned back to her work, continuing to sort through what she had. Eli had plenty of healing potions, ingredients she could quickly combine, so many options… But it was _so_ much harder when she had to face working on somebody she loved. George hadn’t been in danger of losing his life, but Remus… Oh god, she could lose her father and if she did it would be her own fault…

“Eliana.” Her dad’s voice was firmer now, and she couldn’t help but meet his eyes. “You’ll look after Teddy, won’t you, love? You and George… He’ll need you both in his life…”

Eli choked on a harsh, painful sob. “He needs you too,” she breathed.

He smoothed a thumb over her cheekbone gently. “Promise me…you’ll take care of him… Please, Eli.”

“Of course, I’m not—but you can’t!” Eli fumbled the vial she was holding and would’ve dropped it if Nancy hadn’t intervened in time, dropping to her knees and catching it before it shattered on the stones.

With a determined gaze, Nancy took over, using the dropper and adding more Dittany, her hands unerringly steady. She picked through Eli’s bag with a deft hand, clearly trying to see what was there, but Eli knew the girl only had very vague knowledge. There was only so much she could do, and time was running out.

Remus’s eyes glazed, and Eli snatched up a freezing potion from the bag. She went to apply it to his wound—but he stopped her with a surprisingly firm hand. “It’s too late,” he whispered.

Behind her, Eli heard Tonks scream something unintelligible and fight against George’s hold.

Eli had, for just a single moment, a vision of her own future—and her new little brother’s life without their father. It was unthinkable. Unacceptable. “Dad, _please_ ,” she begged hoarsely. “You can’t just give up, I need you, Teddy needs you—he deserves to have you as a father like I never got to. You’re going to be _amazing_ at it, you already are, but you just need to hold on, please, please…”

His chest was slowing, breathing getting shallower and shallower. “I love you, Eli.”

The vial in Eli’s hands shattered as her skin warmed and flickered with light. In front of her, she watched, horrorstruck, as her father’s eyes drifted shut and his chest stilled.

Someone screamed.

And Eli’s hands burst into flames.


	28. Certainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to apologize for the cliffhanger at the last one!!! And I made you suffer over Christmas so I feel doubly bad. I really hope this one makes up for that - this one has been a long time coming. Thank you for the reviews and welcome to anyone just joining us, so close to the end!

Eli sat with her knees drawn to her chest, amid the dead and living alike in the Great Hall. Voldemort had called off his troops, halted the attack for the night, and given Harry a chance to turn himself in rather than let anyone else die. Even now, she couldn’t urge him to do it, couldn’t wish him dead. It wasn’t his fault. Everyone who had gone into that battle knew exactly what they were risking.

At least, she’d thought so.

At the far end of the Great Hall, the Weasleys stood gathered. Fred lay on a makeshift pallet, unconscious at her own hand to allow his body to heal. Simon was beside him, bandaged, on his knees refusing to leave Fred’s side. When he had gone after Fred, Simon had come upon him and Percy fighting a group of Death Eaters—moments before the wall exploded. It was only the sheer luck of his timing that had saved Fred’s life, for Simon had cast a protective charm and contained the explosion just enough to keep him from the worst of it.

Eli had forced herself to walk the rows of the injured, fixing what she could, speaking with the students, just to avoid the inevitable—sitting right where she was.

Tonks was around too, she knew, doing a better job of avoiding this vigil by surrounding herself with friends. Eli couldn’t make herself do it. She had evaded the Weasleys, sent Nancy and Ada off on errands, done everything she could to separate herself and live inside her own head.

A shuffling gait preceded somebody who hadn’t gotten the memo pausing in front of her. “Is he…”

Eli’s head shot up. Of anybody she’d expected, Draco Malfoy was _not_ on the list.

He stood disheveled in front of her, bleeding sluggishly in various places, dirty from head to toe, looking as though he’d been singed on a few places of his robes. She hadn’t even known he was in the castle until now, though his presence in the Great Hall spoke volumes for what side he’d ended on. “I’m…sorry,” he mumbled, swallowing visibly.

She reached over and covered her dad’s hand with her own—then shifted it off his chest, revealing the heavily-bandaged side only just managing to cover the burns. “He isn’t,” she whispered. “But…nearly… I nearly…” Her voice failed her.

Draco crouched and examined the bandages, frowning as the answer seemed to evade him.

“It was me,” she explained, her stomach roiling as she recalled the moments that had made a difference—the anger, the despair that had overtaken her when she saw his chest falter. Eli had no words for the emotions that she’d been swallowed by. When she’d thought she’d just seen her father die, her hands had ignited, an emotional outburst like she hadn’t had for ages—and in a burst of singular inspiration, she’d directed that fire, calmed it, used it to cauterize his wound. It had worked. She’d gotten him stable enough to bring him to the Great Hall, where Madame Pomfrey had finished the healing with a grim expression.

“The burns,” he realized, looking up at her in shock. “You closed it up that way?”

“Not intentionally. I just…lost my head.” Eli curled her knees closer to her chest. “I’m lucky I did, I suppose.”

Draco sank down beside her and nodded slowly. “Caring about people is shit.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Speaking from experience?”

That made him shift uncomfortably and avoid her gaze, though.

For the first time, Eli found the energy to wonder why exactly he’d sought her out, or at least decided to linger with her. They certainly hadn’t been close, in fact because of her choices in friends they’d been almost constantly at odds, even when she’d been Quidditch Captain and had willingly kept him on the team. The only times they’d ever had any real camaraderie was during Quidditch practice, actually.

“You know…” Eli began slowly, trying to pick her words carefully so as not to run him off. “Us Slytherins…we aren’t natural-born heroes like everyone else seems to be. We don’t want to die for others, we don’t like to lay down our lives for just anybody.”

He snorted. “You don’t seem to have a problem.”

“But it’s not just anybody. That’s the thing.” She brushed a strand of hair from her father’s eyes and sighed deeply. “We pick and choose who we let in—and everybody else can just eat it, for all we care. That’s just our nature. And if we do decide to fight for someone, or defend them, whatever it might be… It’s only because they’ve earned our care. Us Slytherins, we find our people and stand by them, but nobody else. I just got lucky that my people stand on this side of the war.” Eli looked up to find him staring at her, almost transfixed by her words. “Not everyone is that lucky. I’m no fool. Most Death Eaters came from our house because of one reason or another—but they all don’t believe in it, in Voldemort’s fight. Some of it is fear. Fear for themselves, or the people they care about…”

“Yeah.” He tore his gaze away and stared off towards the doors of the Great Hall. “A lot of ruddy fear.”

Eli slowly shifted, crossed her legs, and leaned in until he looked back at her again. “Your parents aren’t here, are they? They’re still in his camp.”

A single, terse nod.

“I don’t know that anyone else would say this, but… I won’t blame you for doing what you have to do, to protect your own. I can’t even tell you the things I’d do for the people I love. I think I killed someone tonight defending George. And I don’t regret it.” Eli seized his shoulder and held on tight, staring him right in the eyes. “So do what you need to do, when it comes to it. Stay here until then, I won’t let anyone bother you, I promise. But when the time comes… I won’t blame you for doing what you have to in order to protect them. We both know he wouldn’t hesitate to use them against you.”

Draco’s mouth pursed into a thin line as he nodded. “He wouldn’t. He’d kill them in a heartbeat.”

“But promise me something, will you?”

He nodded again, but warier this time, as though he couldn’t predict what she was about to ask.

“Promise me, if you get the chance to leave, you will.” Eli released him and sat back, wondering at herself, at the things she was saying—but it rang true in her heart. “Protect your own, Draco. That’s all we can do anymore.”

“I promise,” he agreed softly.

For a while, they sat there in complete silence, Eli monitoring her dad’s pulse and Draco ostensibly using her as a shield against anybody who might ask what he was doing there. Eli didn’t mind. He was young still, barely considered an adult, with parents who had effectively indoctrinated him into the Dark Arts. How could she blame him?

“Potter saved my life.” He spat it like a curse, like it was something dirty and disgusting, but Eli could see on his face it was more reactionary than anything else.

She nodded slowly. “That sounds like him.”

“Risked his stupid life to do it. Dunno why. But he did.”

Eli had the sense he’d just…needed to tell somebody what had happened, someone who wouldn’t pity him or sneer about it. She regretted in that moment not working harder to crack his shell, not attempting to nurture him like she’d done for plenty of the other younger students—perhaps she could’ve helped him find a way out rather than let him fall into this mess. But there was nothing she could do to change that now. She could only try to alter his future. “Well, however it happened, you’ve gotten a second chance here, haven’t you? So use it.”

He looked up at her, half a lost child and half a determined adult, both equally confused and yet…there was something else. Determination. “Right. Use it. Like I’ve used the rest of my life.” Angry, face suddenly contorting, Draco reached to yank his sleeve up.

But Eli stopped him with a firm hand on his. “I know,” she told him quietly. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t choose your path. That mark doesn’t define you—that’s your job.”

Behind Eli, her father stirred faintly, and her heart leapt in her chest. “Listen, Draco…” She rolled to her knees and turned to attend Remus. “You’re of age, and I’d bet a hundred galleons you know some basic healing spells.”

“Yeah, ‘course I do. So?”

She pointed across the room to where Nancy stood among a handful of Slytherins, in various states of disarray. “That’s Nancy Clements over there, in case you don’t recognize her from our house. Go help her out, we’ve all got plenty on our hands. And she won’t let anybody speak against you if you tell her I sent you. If you’re going to stay here tonight, put yourself to work. It’ll be the quickest way to shut everyone up.”

Draco rose and eyed her, glancing between her and Nancy a bit warily. “She’s not going to hex me or something, right? This isn’t a setup?”

Eli looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “No. It’s not a setup. I swear.”

He nodded, took one step towards Nancy—but then Eli caught his wrist, just for one moment longer. “Remember what I said, all right? Look after your own, and then decide what direction you want to take. And if we make it through this… I’ll vouch for you. Because I understand.”

Draco gave her one last, almost bewildered look, before nodding tersely and crossing to Nancy. From her spot, Eli could see the girl give him a once-over—and then set him to work immediately, directing him to a group of Slytherin sixth-years who had various small injuries visible. They hesitated to accept his help at first, so Nancy darted over and set them straight, after which they did let him help.

Good. Eli was all for redemption, in whatever form.

\--

Eli stepped from the Great Hall after several hours’ difficult, exhausting work, just to clear her head. She’d intended to go alone, but she heard the door creak open behind her and moments later George was at her side. He leaned into the alcove beside her, stepping over piles of debris to get there, and just wordlessly took her hand.

“How’s Fred?” she asked him quietly.

“Doing better. Madame Pomfrey says he’ll be healed enough for her to wake him up by morning, or at least, that’s her guess.” George’s fingers tightened on hers, almost imperceptibly, the only external sign of how traumatic it had been for him to come so close to losing his twin. “If mum had any doubts about Simon, or anyone questioned them before…they certainly won’t now. Simon hasn’t left his side the whole time. Actually, he’s the only reason I felt comfortable enough to go.”

She glanced sideways at him, feeling dreadfully guilty. “You didn’t need to leave… I didn’t mean to pull you away.”

“You didn’t,” he told her gently. “I wanted to come see you, love. You’ve been…well…” George leaned his head against hers. “I know you needed time after what happened with Remus, but I was getting worried.”

“I nearly let my dad die, George,” Eli whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m not cut out to be a Healer.”

He turned and took her shoulders. “No, love. That’s not true. Nobody’s supposed to have to work on their own _family_ , blimey, even the best Healers would have a rough time of that. And you’re still in training. Besides, you _did_ save him. Madame Pomfrey said it herself, what you did was the only thing that saved his life. If you hadn’t…”

“But I _burned_ him, I lost control and that’s the only way I managed it,” she shot back, feeling inexplicably angry. “That isn’t proper Healing, I never should’ve had to do that—I should’ve figured it out before it got that bad. I had time, and I—I _failed_ , don’t you get it?! I bloody failed!”

Eli tried to tear away from him, but George held her fast, pulling her into his chest and smoothing her hair. “Except Remus is alive, Eli. You can’t forget that. You didn’t _fail_ , because he’s okay, he’s alive and he’s not going anywhere. That isn’t failing, love, that’s succeeding. It doesn’t matter how you did it.”

“Only it does. Because if that had been anybody else, I wouldn’t have been upset enough to do it.” Eli shut her eyes tight. “I don’t think I can be a Healer, I really don’t.”

George kissed the top of her head. “Then do something else, if that doesn’t make you happy. But you didn’t fail Remus, all right? He’s only here because of you, that isn’t failure. And he’s going to be a proper dad to Teddy now, he’ll get to do everything you talked about. Because _you_ saved him. Don’t forget that.”

Eli’s chest hitched in a sob, and she pressed into him, clutching him around the middle and burying her face against him. “I’m sorry,” she choked out.

“Now that,” George told her, pulling back enough to wipe the tears from her cheeks, “is possibly the most unnecessary apology in history.”

Against her will that made her smile, broke through her anguish. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he murmured, and kissed her forehead. “You know, I think mum might actually lose her mind if we just up and got married here. She’d feel cheated that we didn’t have a proper ceremony or anything.”

Eli nodded reluctantly. Now that she’d gotten it in her head, she wanted it, so very badly—not because of the war, or because of all the fighting…but because she loved him, she knew he was her future, and because it had become so painfully obvious how precious life was. How precious a chance at something like this was. She’d blamed people for shotgunning weddings before, turned her nose up, but she realized then she’d only been missing _why_. It wasn’t in reaction to the war and the danger—it was in reaction to the knowledge of how rare something like that actually was, in a world so fraught with chaos.

“I suppose you’re right,” she admitted nodding. “And we aren’t technically out of this just yet, it’s not over.”

“That’s fair.” George glanced around, taking in the area, something glittering in his eye… And then, right there in the alcove, among all the debris and remnants of the fighting earlier, he sank to one knee and pulled out a ring. “I was holding onto this… I wanted to give it to you this summer, I had a whole thing planned out… Freddie and Simon helped me put the idea together, it involved stargazing and a picnic and it was supposed to be stupid romantic, but…” He grinned crookedly. “I think tonight I realized that none of that matters. What matters is that I love you, and I want to be with you—and that’s all we need, isn’t it?”

Eli stared, utterly transfixed, eyes flicking rapid-fire between the ring and George’s open, earnest face. The ring was beautiful, and no doubt expensive—a single diamond at the center, framed by an emerald to each side, set in polished white gold. She had the distinct feeling he’d gotten it made custom for her, which meant he truly had been planning this for a while.

“It is,” she agreed softly, aware only faintly that her voice was shaking. “I don’t need any big romantic gestures from you, George. I know I love you, that’s enough for me.” Eli swallowed tightly. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, so loud she was surprised it wasn’t echoing against the stone—but for all her nerves, for all the fear and stress and everything she’d endured… She was certain. Tonight she had seen exactly what lengths she’d go to for the people she loved—the things she would do, without hesitation, for _George_. What more certainty did she need?

“Well, then.” George cleared his throat, looked up at her so earnest and open it stole the breath right from her lungs, and asked her for real this time, no immediate threat, no fear of separation. Just the two of them, alone, needing nothing more. “Eliana Lupin, will you marry me?”

Eli smiled through a sudden wave of tears. “Yes,” she whispered. “A thousand times over, _yes_.”

George leapt up, embraced her, stumbled through sliding the ring on because his hands were trembling—and then they were in each other’s arms, both caught between laughing and crying, clinging to one another as if through a hurricane. Eli drew back and kissed him, then ducked her head back into his neck and clenched her eyes shut to keep back the tears.

She swore then, whatever might come the next day, when the Death Eaters returned and the fighting began anew, that she wouldn’t let George out of her sight. Eli hadn’t been lying to Draco—she couldn’t say what she’d do for the people she loved, because there was no limit. She would do whatever it took just to keep them alive, to protect them, and it didn’t matter who she had to go through to do it. And that, she knew in her heart, was how she loved. Fiercely, deeply, unconditionally. No matter what she had to do, she would protect him.

\--

Considering the current situation, the threat still looming over everyone’s heads, Eli and George merely pulled Mrs. Weasley aside discreetly and told her, explaining she was the first to know and that they would announce it at large later, once the fighting was done for good. Mrs. Weasley embraced them both and could scarcely stop crying, so they ended up telling Fred, Simon, and Mr. Weasley, just so they could calm poor Mrs. Weasley down. Not that Eli blamed her. She kept welling up every time she glanced down at her ring finger.

The night passed slowly. Eli spent her time split between tending to the wounded, her father included, and brewing up potions to supplement the dwindling supply. Hogwarts simply wasn’t equipped for this many injuries at once. At least potion-making didn’t cause her to feel useless or failing, since she could brew most of the necessary ones with her eyes shut, practically.

Nobody slept that night, except the few wounded who needed it. They were all too alert, too afraid, to find any real rest, so the Great Hall kept up a steady stream of quiet conversations, a general hum of noise that Eli found oddly comforting. It reminded her that not everything had been lost, plenty of people had survived—plenty had scarcely been injured, in fact. And there were glimmers of hope around the room, if she paused to look. Fred, sitting upright and tapping Simon’s nose with his usual wry grin; Ron and Hermione, slipping off to have a private moment; Neville and Luna, side-by-side, hands brushing just so; Tonks beside Remus, making him laugh, her hair slowly returning to its usual vibrant pink; and even Draco, across the room, kneeling before a young Gryffindor girl and healing a scratch on her arm, talking in a low, comforting tone.

George, from where he’d been lying prone with his head on his cloak like a makeshift pillow, pointed across the room at Draco. “That’s your work, isn’t it?” he asked. “Malfoy working with Nancy, healing little kids like he’s one of us.”

Eli frowned at him. “He can be one of us if he likes, George. If Voldemort held your parents’ lives above your head, what would you do to save them? What would any of us do except what we _had_ to?” She prodded his side, not really angry—that was an old wound, the boys’ dislike of Draco Malfoy. “I talked to him earlier. He’s struggling, trying to find some guidance, so I thought I’d offer him a way to keep busy, at least.”

He shrugged lightly. “Fair, I suppose.”

Well. At least he wasn’t questioning her too hard on it. She didn’t think she could get any of the Gryffindors to understand her point of view on that particular issue, really.

At first light, there was a commotion outside, so Eli and George got up and followed the others to find the source. She couldn’t fathom what it might be, since she’d expected the Death Eaters to simply come bursting back in when they didn’t acquiesce—so it was a knife in the gut to step outside and see a whole pack of them, led by Voldemort himself, crossing the bridge and approaching the courtyard.

“Oh, bloody hell,” George whispered beside her. “That’s Hagrid, we didn’t know they’d gotten him…”

It was Ginny who noticed first, who realized Hagrid was carrying something in his arms and crying, shoulders trembling. She let out a hoarse, wordless cry that sounded like sandpaper in her throat, and lunged forward. “No! _NO!_ ”

Mr. Weasley caught her just in time, holding her back, but he looked just as horrified.

Harry.

It was Harry.

Sometime in the night, he had gone to the Death Eaters’ camp and…and…

Eli couldn’t breathe. Harry was _dead_. Her hands trembled at her sides, light flickering, flames threatening, but she didn’t even have the energy to summon them. All the hope she’d seen in the night faded away. He was gone. And Voldemort was still very much alive.

“Silence!” he snarled, over Ginny’s horrorstruck wailing.

Beside him, Bellatrix Lestrange curled her lip and uttered, “Stupid girl. Wasting your tears.”

Voldemort strode forward, bare feet making hardly any sound on the stones, and flung his arms wide in front of the crowd of onlookers. “Harry Potter…is dead!”

Horrified screams came to Eli as if through water. She felt George’s hand grab her own, fingers tight and trembling against hers—but she didn’t have the strength to grip back.

“From this day forth…you’ll put your faith in me.”

Eli felt, more than saw, his eerie red eyes rake over everyone, lingering for just a moment—her head felt like it would split apart in that second, and she remembered, much too late, that he was supposed to be a ridiculously powerful Occlumens. But what would he see? There was nothing left to keep secret, no Order plans to hide… And he’d _won_. With Harry dead…

Her heart clenched as Voldemort repeated himself, louder, and a ripple of sobs ran through the crowd.

“And now,” he began, swinging his arms wide, “is the time to declare yourselves.”

Eli felt a presence behind her, a faint shifting, and tipped her head just so to see Draco Malfoy behind her, pale-faced and unsteady.

Across the courtyard, a voice hissed, short and quick, “Draco!”

Lucius Malfoy, eyes red-rimmed, hair stringy, looking as though he’d been through the runner, made a quick, panicked gesture at his son. When Draco didn’t move, only stared at him, he gave a nervous smile and murmured, “Don’t be stupid…”

Beside him, Narcissa Malfoy jutted her chin out. “Come, Draco.” It was an order.

Eli saw Voldemort watching the interaction, eyes flicking between Draco and his parents, something horrid and hungry lurking there. And she knew the moment had come—the point where Draco would have to do exactly what she’d said, to protect his family. She knew it and she _understood_ it, even if the others wouldn’t. Because his family wouldn’t be able to get away, they were well and truly stuck on that side, at least for the foreseeable future… And if he didn’t go to them…

She reached back, subtly as she could, and touched his wrist lightly. “Go on,” Eli whispered. “You know what he’ll do.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Draco shuffled forward and stepped through the crowd, shoulders hunched against the stares drilling into him as he crossed the divide. His mother pulled him under her arm when he reached them, handed him what had to be a stolen or otherwise captured wand, and Eli saw him roll it in his fingers, looking almost nauseous.

“Well done, Draco,” Voldemort almost crooned. “Well done. And who will be next, hm?”

Eli knew the answer. Nobody. No one else would change sides—and when they refused, when it became clear that there would be no other additions to the Death Eaters’ side… That would be the end.

Then Neville limped forward. Eli held her breath, knowing damn well he wasn’t switching sides. He was just…being a Gryffindor. She could only watch, horrified, as he shuffled forward, one hand clutching what looked like the Sorting Hat in one hand as he moved away from the others, just far enough to stand apart and draw attention to himself.

“Well, I must say, I’d hoped for better.” Voldemort grinned as his Death Eaters laughed, all amused simply at the idea of Neville joining them. Eli felt dizzy. “And who might you be, young man?”

“Neville Longbottom.”

More laughter, especially from Bellatrix Lestrange, punctuated by a fierce grin.

“Well, welcome, Neville. I’m sure we can find a place for you among our rank.” More laughter.

But Neville raised his head, gaze fierce, shoulders strong, and called loudly, “I’d like to say something.”

That caught Voldemort off guard, visibly, but he flashed a sharp smile and regained control in seconds. “Well, Neville, I’m sure we’d all be fascinated to hear what you have to say.”

For a moment, the air was still—and then Neville’s voice rang out. “It doesn’t matter that Harry’s gone.”

“Stand down, Neville!” Seamus cried, jaw dropped.

But Neville didn’t let up. “People die every day,” he snapped, his chest heaving. “Friends, family…” He looked around, daring anybody else to call him out. But no one dared speak. “Yeah, we lost Harry tonight. But he’s still with us, _here_.” He pressed his hand to his chest, over his heart, and swallowed hard. “And so is everyone else we lost tonight. All of them. They didn’t die in vain!”

That made the Death Eaters chuckle, so Neville turned on them, jabbing a furious finger in their direction. “But _you_ will! Because you’re wrong!” He squared his shoulders and fixed the whole side with a fierce, unflinching gaze. “Harry’s heart did beat for us. For all of us. It’s not over!”

With one smooth movement, Neville jammed his hand inside the Sorting Hat—and drew the Sword of Gryffindor from within its depths.

Across the courtyard, Eli saw a flurry of movement—Harry’s body shifted, flung itself free of Hagrid’s grip. And suddenly Harry was _alive_ , rolling to his feet amid a mass of Death Eaters, wandless but so very alive…

As Voldemort wheeled round, shock and a flash of terror crossing his face, Eli saw it clear as day. Draco, hefting the wand his mother had given him—and tossing it right into Harry’s outstretched hand.

Chaos erupted.

Eli ducked a sudden curse from a Death Eater as Harry went for Nagini, loosing a spell and trying to set her on fire before racing away from the fight, over a low wall and behind a column, narrowly avoiding Voldemort’s curse. As soon as she had her feet back under her, Eli lurched into action, urging everyone back inside the castle. The Death Eaters followed, sending curses after them, and the uninjured Order members moved in to defend the retreating students, repelling everything, everyone fighting with renewed energy now that Harry wasn’t dead after all.

She tumbled into the hallway as an explosion sent debris scattering, and Eli felt her head crack against something hard as she fell, her vision bursting with stars and flickering black. Breathless and stunned, she lay on the ground, unmoving, just trying to get her lungs to cooperate.

“Eli!”

Someone grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard, startling her out of her daze. Eli peeled her eyes open to see Ada above her, tense and fearful. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here!”

With strength Eli hadn’t thought she had, Ada grabbed her arm and hauled her upright. When Eli tried to walk, her legs nearly gave out—so Ada slung Eli’s arm over her shoulders and helped her walk away, out of the hallway through a hail of curses. As they went, Eli slowly began to regain herself, the world coming back into clarity. Her head _hurt_ , ached hard enough to make her wince at every throb, and she was certain she had blood dripping down the back of her head.

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked, when Ada paused to check around the next corner.

Ada’s mouth thinned. “I don’t know. Fighting. They’re trying to keep everyone away from the Great Hall to protect everyone who’s injured.”

_George_. Eli had lost him in the chaos, she had no idea where he was.

“I have to go back,” she breathed.

But Ada shook her head. “You’re _hurt_ , Eli, you need to find somewhere safe and-”

Eli jerked her arm away and took off running. Ada yelled after her, but she moved too slowly to block her—and Eli had a goal, besides. She was going to find George and damn well make sure he was all right.

Two corridors down, Eli rounded the corner to head by the Great Hall, only to see that it had been flooded by Death Eaters. She cursed and ran in, wand already in her hand, just in time to deflect a curse meant to catch Lee Jordan in the back. He flashed her a tight grin and turned back to the battle too fast for her to ask after George.

A hand grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her down, underneath a grey-green spell she didn’t recognize. Eli turned, caught sight of a flash of white-blonde hair as Luna darted away and into the fight elsewhere, apparently done with her task then.

Eli stayed crouched, scanning the room to find where she was needed. She could see Tonks across the room, fighting hard against a pair of Death Eaters—with Remus behind her. The sight made her heart clench, knowing he wasn’t up to fighting yet, but Eli had no way to reach them. She had to trust that Tonks would look after him. And she _still_ couldn’t see George, she needed to focus on that, find him first and go from there.

Finally, she spotted him at the back of the hall, fighting back-to-back with Mr. Weasley. Eli shoved to her feet, hexed a Death Eater standing in her path, and all but ran across to join them, aware she must look crazy but just unable to care.

Just as Eli reached the two, a plume of smoke streaked through the hall and landed nearby, materializing into Bellatrix Lestrange.

Eli stumbled into George’s side and twined one hand into the back of his shirt. He gripped her back, staring uncertainly up at Bellatrix who was just leering down at them. She fired off a spell that Mr. Weasley deflected—and then effortlessly, too rapid-fire to react, Bellatrix turned and sent a curse flying straight at Ginny. At _Ginny_ , too far from them to be protected, everything just too _fast_ for anybody to prevent.

With a sharp movement, Ginny deflected the curse, her eyes shooting wide when she realized after the fact just how close she’d come to death.

Bellatrix grinned, more amused than anything else.

Eli moved, George moved, Mr. Weasley moved—but none of them were faster than Mrs. Weasley, who shoved her cloak off and leapt in front of Ginny, wand out, fury contorting her face. “Not my daughter, you bitch,” she snarled.

In all the time she’d known Mrs. Weasley, Eli had never seen her duel, not properly. She remained a homemaker, focusing on her children, their lives and wellbeing… So it was stunning to actually see how damned _good_ she was. Bellatrix went from laughing and taunting, not a care in the world—to gritting her teeth, flinching, genuinely fighting for her life.

Mrs. Weasley drew her wand back and flung a curse at Bellatrix—bright green and aimed right into her stomach. She took it dead-center, her eyes going wide… And then Bellatrix Lestrange toppled over. Dead.

Eli let out a heavy breath and sank into George. The dizziness was setting back in, her vision a bit blurred, head pounding… All she wanted to do was lie down, really.

A small piece of knowledge floated through her head. Classic signs of concussion. But she knew how to handle that—she’d been training as a ruddy Healer. So Eli summoned a potion out of her Healer’s bag and measured some into a separate vial, before quickly tipping that back into her mouth. It was bitter, made her shudder as she took it, but the symptoms eased immediately. Stupid. Ada had been right, she shouldn’t have gone running off. Eli considered that another tick under _reasons she shouldn’t be a Healer._

“You’re bleeding,” George murmured, peering behind her with a deep frown.

Eli lifted a hand and touched it to the back of her head, her fingers coming back slick with blood. “I…got caught in that explosion earlier. It’s nothing.”

“That’s not nothing,” he shot back firmly. “Look, pretend it’s me or something. What would you tell me to do, Eli?”

She winced. “Cover it, at least,” she had to admit.

Quicker than she could react to stop him, George took her Healer’s bag and pulled out a gauze pad, one of her enchanted ones—she’d charmed them to stick to a wound without needing any extra tape or sealant. Eli saw no other option than to let him help, so she quietly instructed him on cleaning the wound and safely covering it. Once that was taken care of, he returned her bag and kissed her forehead gently, not needing to say anything—she understood him anyway.

All around them, Death Eaters were succumbing. Eli saw her dad stun one and send him flying clear across the room. Near the entrance, Luna and Naomi were handling two Death Eaters, holding their own brilliantly. Rosalyn was dueling a Death Eater just off the center of the room, a flurry of spells flashing from her wand, with a grin curling her lips up. Almost enjoying herself. She caught a glimpse of Nancy outside with her hair flying, caught up in a duel and looking completely under control. She was _grinning_. It was chaos, but the tide had turned somehow. The Malfoys had vanished, Merlin only knew how many had been caught off guard and lost their edge when Harry turned up alive again. And Eli had to assume some Death Eaters, sensing their impending loss, had fled to find shelter.

Eli reached down and grabbed George’s hands tightly in her own. He pulled her in close, pressed his forehead to hers, and grinned.

Then they turned and dove back into the battle. It was time to end this.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! I could offer all kinds of excuses, but honestly I just fell into a depression black hole and it took me a while to crawl back out. Either way, I AM finishing this story for you all. It has meant the absolute world to me how sweet everyone has been about this - I have learned so much writing this story and I want to say thank you for going on this journey with me. And as always, enjoy!

When the dust settled, and the most grievously injured had been transferred to St. Mungo’s, Eli went to Madame Pomfrey and told her outright that while she was grateful for the opportunity and the effort the Healer had put in, she had come to the realization that Healing simply wasn’t for her. It didn’t go over too poorly, though Madame Pomfrey expressed her concerns for where Eli would take her talents.

The truth was, Eli didn’t know. But she wasn’t going to fret over it. The twins’ business was doing amazingly, and she had far bigger concerns that day.

She glanced to her side, where Newt Scamander stood in his best robes, shoulders squared, addressing the heads of both the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Potions Regulation and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He was giving the first part of their bid to officially alter the standardized recipe for the Wolfsbane Potion, explaining his original intentions with the Werewolf Register and how Eli’s new, improved recipe would go further in promoting those intentions, rather than making werewolves’ lives even more difficult.

The Battle of Hogwarts had subsided merely two days ago, leaving the Ministry scrambling and their world still in tatters—but Eli had called in a favor with the brand-new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. He had personally arranged this meeting, and ensured both department heads were aware they were speaking with a personal friend of his.

Not that Eli wanted her proposal to be taken on anything beyond its own merit—but if she hadn’t done it, then she might’ve been waiting months to handle this. And that was unacceptable.

Seated in chairs along the side of the room were her father and Bill Weasley, both watching Newt’s address with rapt attention. Eli had nearly told her dad not to come, since he was still recovering, but he had steadfastly refused to sit out. So there he was, bandaged so tightly on his side his torso was stiff, with all manner of cuts and bruises visible on his face. Bill didn’t look much better, but at least he wasn’t burned on his side.

Magical injures simply didn’t heal as quickly as physical ones.

When Newt finished, the head of the Department of Potions Regulation, a man who introduced himself with the surname Seabrooke, regarded Eli curiously. “And you say you’ve tested this, Ms. Lupin?”

That was a new one— _Ms_. Lupin. She attributed it to the engagement ring on her finger.

“Not personally,” she explained, “but I do have lycanthropic blood—I tested it against my blood first, to ensure there weren’t any obvious reactions.”

The quill in front of him scribbled a note.

“I see. But it _has_ been tested?” he pressed.

Remus lifted a hand. “I tested it myself, yes,” he told Mr. Seabrooke in a surprisingly steady voice. “And it’s been perfectly successful.”

“In one dose, as I said before,” Eli added on quickly. That was very important—the size of the dose made the biggest immediate difference. “I concentrated it enough that it doesn’t require the whole week, just the single dose taken at least twenty-four hours before the full moon, but no more than forty-eight hours or it’ll lose its potency. Well, by my estimate.”

“You realize we’ll need to run this through proper testing,” he pointed out, furrowing his brow. “We’ll need to ensure it can be replicated, first, and then accumulate enough test subjects for a full testing group…”

Her dad raised an eyebrow. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Seabrooke… The lycanthropic community will have some…difficulty trusting your word that it’s a genuine attempt to better their lives. Perhaps it might go over more smoothly if you allow me to put the word out myself. That trust has been broken, you must understand.”

Eli bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling. He really had guts, she had to admit. But they didn’t want to make enemies of these men. So she cut across any retaliation as smoothly as she could, summoning up what Slytherin silver-tongue she could find. “Mr. Seabrooke, Mr. Ott… We all know our world has changed, and it will continue to change. Kingsley Shacklebolt is already working to improve the Ministry’s reputation after Voldemort and his regime nearly ruined it completely. All I am asking—all we are asking—is for you to get a head start on those improvements. Be pioneers in the new Ministry. My version of the Wolfsbane Potion works, I wouldn’t dare come here if I weren’t certain. You only stand to gain by giving this a chance.”

The two department heads gave each other unreadable looks, but Eli didn’t miss Newt’s bright smile in her direction. If he believed it would work, then she couldn’t think any differently. She couldn’t stop pushing, ever, or she’d never get her recipe standardized.

\--

_Ms. Lupin,_

_The Ministry has approved your request to formally test the patented improved Wolfsbane Potion you submitted. The trial will run for three months, to be tested on the most varied subjects available, against the existing standard recipe. If the results conclude your new recipe is a genuine improvement and feasible financially, we will begin the process of substituting your recipe in place of the old one._

_We will contact you once the test has concluded._

_Yours,_

_Mulligan Seabrooke, Head of Ministry of Magic Department of Potions Regulation_

\--

The letter lay open on the kitchen table next to a copy of the Daily Prophet, which bore a small article on the third page about the Ministry testing a new version of the Wolfsbane potion. Eli had been staring at them for an hour, yet she still hadn’t managed to actually believe it was real. Voldemort hadn’t been dead a week and she already had made this much progress. How could that possibly be real?

“Are you _still_ staring at that, Eli?” Simon asked, sticking his head into the kitchen as he passed by. “I don’t think it’s healthy at this point.”

She didn’t tear her eyes away. “Says the one who drank _dirty paint water_ yesterday.”

“It was an accident!”

Eli didn’t bother hiding her smile, though she still refused to look away. It felt rather as though if she dared look away, it wouldn’t be real, and she’d be at square one again. “You still did it. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t die.”

Simon snorted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He went to walk on—but then stopped, and walked into the kitchen with a small scrap of paper, one of the ones the twins used to send notes upstairs when they were too busy in the shop to just come up. “Er…I think you should see this,” he murmured, handing it over.

She took the note and read it, still looking at the newspaper and the letter over the top. But as soon as she finished, she turned to Simon fully, eyes wide. “Why would _McGonagall_ be asking for me?”

“No idea,” Simon told her with a shrug. “I’d go see what she wants, though.”

With Snape gone, McGonagall was the clear choice to replace him, and replace Dumbledore as well. Shortly after the battle, she’d been named Headmistress of Hogwarts—yet Eli couldn’t imagine she’d come in that capacity. So why on earth was she there? Perhaps it was something to do with the battle, or otherwise her apprenticeship. McGonagall had been supportive of it, after all. She might be trying to convince Eli to go back to Healing.

Seeing no other options, Eli left Simon in the flat and headed downstairs, emerging into the brilliant-colored chaos that was Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. The twins were at the center of the hurricane, selling their hearts out, wearing matching grins and dressed extravagantly, as always. Some of their newest items—such as a tiny replica of Neville beheading Nagini, very popular now—were surrounding them on displays, clearly things they wanted to sell hard. And outside, just as the note had said, Eli could see McGonagall standing beside the door, imposing and sharp as always.

Eli crossed the sales floor with a squeeze to George’s arm, just to let him know she was there, and stepped out onto the street. Diagon Alley was still rebuilding from the Death Eaters’ attacks, but with Hogwarts resuming and the wizarding world back at peace, the general public still wanted to shop. It was amazing to see how quickly most could bounce back.

“Headmistress,” Eli greeted, catching McGonagall’s attention. “It’s good to see you.”

McGonagall inclined her head. “Have you been faring all right, Ms. Lupin? I heard news of the test at the Ministry—I’m sure Kingsley will ensure it’s well-handled. That’s quite an accomplishment, I must say, to improve upon a potion most considered untouchable.”

Eli felt her cheeks redden just a bit. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted, embarrassed.

“Quite so.” McGonagall seemed to draw herself up, and Eli sensed she was getting to her real reason for stopping by. After all, she must be busy, so this had to be an important errand. “I’ve come by with an offer, Ms. Lupin. You see… Horace has expressed a wish to retire after everything that occurred in the past school year, and not return to Hogwarts in the upcoming term. Which leaves me entirely without a replacement Potions Master, and head of Slytherin House as well.”

Deep in her stomach, Eli felt a certain buzzing, a premonition almost. She knew exactly what McGonagall was asking. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. “I can’t say I’m surprised… He already had been reluctant to come back, from what I heard.”

She nodded. “Indeed.” McGonagall fixed Eli with a knowing sort of look. “Bearing that in mind… I would like to offer you the position. I think it would suit you, especially given your recent departure from your apprenticeship. Not only are you a fervent advocate of your own house, but you are—quite clearly—a rather masterful potion-maker, if the Ministry itself is willing to consider your recipe as a replacement to the current standard.”

Eli swallowed hard, unable to hold the Headmistress’s gaze any longer. While Snape had been Potions Master, she had never dared consider the job—he was clearly entrenched in it, despite his desire to take over Defense Against the Dark Arts so it hadn’t ever been an option. But now…

Oh Merlin, she could be the Potions professor… Head of Slytherin… She could enact the changes to her own house she’d been working at ever since she got her feet under her… Eli shut her eyes a moment, just picturing it. This was exactly what her dad told her, back at the Weasleys’, what felt like an eternity ago. He’d pointed out that it seemed wasteful of the talent she’d been given to simply ignore her abilities and focus elsewhere. Not unkindly, but the point still stood.

“Aren’t I…a bit young for the position?” Eli asked, finally making herself look back at McGonagall.

The Headmistress gave a wry smile. “Perhaps in the past. But you proved yourself an excellent leader this year, Eli.” A rare moment of levity, calling her by her first name. “The students listened to you, and several members of my own house made it quite clear they only survived because of your quick thinking. You took the most vulnerable students out of the Death Eaters’ grasp. I don’t believe the students would have any real difficulty accepting your authority in a classroom.”

“I…” Eli’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat, rather embarrassed about it. “I’ll need to think it over. When do you need my answer by?”

“Realistically as soon as possible, but let’s say the end of June. Does that sound fair?”

Eli nodded quickly. That was _more_ than fair, really—and more time than she needed. But she sensed McGonagall was trying to ensure she didn’t feel pressured, which was really very kind of her. “Then I’ll give you my answer by then, Headmistress. I assume earlier, but if something drastic changes this summer…”

McGonagall lifted a hand to stay her. “I understand completely. But do think it through, Ms. Lupin. I really believe you’d be quite an asset to the school.”

When McGonagall was gone, goodbyes all said, Eli stepped back into the store and made eye contact with George. She knew he’d read everything in her gaze—and sure enough, he leaned over to Fred and murmured something, before making his excuses to a couple customers and striding quickly over to Eli.

“So what did McGonagall want?” he asked, pressing one hand into her lower back and guiding her out of the store.

Eli took his arm and stared at the cobblestones. “She offered me a job, George. At Hogwarts.”

“Blimey.” He grinned at her widely. “Let me guess—Potions Master? Er, well, Mistress? That’s _brilliant_ , love. Tell me you said yes.”

“I said I’d think about it,” she sighed. “I’m just not sure… I only just left my apprenticeship, I’m still really young for a teacher, and she’d want me to be head of Slytherin too and that’s an enormous responsibility, really. Besides, I’d be away from you half the year, and we’re planning our wedding, there’s so much going on…”

George took her shoulders and looked her right in the eyes, going serious very fast. “Eli. Listen to me. This is _exactly_ what you’re looking for in a job, I know it is. Besides, Fred and I were considering opening up a second location, buying Zonko’s old place in Hogsmeade. All the more reason to go ahead with it, right?”

She twisted her mouth up and frowned at him. “ _Maybe_. It’s just—so fast, isn’t it? I just left one thing and I’d be going right into something else. And we have so much to do.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to work yourself up all over planning our wedding,” he teased, tugging on a curl. “We swore we wouldn’t let it be some horrid stressful thing. Right? So we wouldn’t end up hating all of it.”

That was true—when they’d finally told everyone, admitting it when Tonks noticed Eli’s ring in the aftermath of the battle, they had sat together that night and promised each other not to let their impending wedding feel stressful, that they’d simplify when stress rolled in, stay away from the ridiculous elements, just keep it all positive and easy so they wouldn’t have negative memories about it. Eli was already verging on breaking that promise, just because of this.

“Maybe that’s a sign I shouldn’t do it,” she suggested quietly. “Because this is making me stress about everything.”

George rolled his eyes. “ _Or_ we just make it smaller, do it during the summer like I suggested, and then you’re free to take the job. You know, it’s like I told you before, love. I don’t mind what you do, long as you’re happy. But I think this will make you happy, I think it’s exactly the right thing. And I bet you’ll regret it if you let it go.”

She hated that he was right—part of her had been appreciating the promise of a little time off. But it was just about her dream job, now that Healing was off the table. To take over as Potions Master… To head up Slytherin as a lycanthrope’s daughter, someone of a mixed bloodline…

“Look, didn’t you say just a couple nights ago that all we need is an officiant and our friends and family?” George pointed out.

Eli wrinkled her nose. “Your mum would kill us if we didn’t do anything else.”

“Fair.” He grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist. “But we were ready to get married in the castle, weren’t we?”

Well…there was no denying that. If her dad hadn’t almost died that night, she might’ve gone through with it, too. But with everything that happened, they’d decided not to take that step—and now, after the fact, Eli was just letting all the usual things flood in. A dress, the flowers, the cake, guest lists, and she’d been considering wedding parties! Merlin, what was she doing? This wasn’t her, this was just…what society expected.

And that just wasn’t how Eli worked.

“Right,” she agreed, squaring her shoulders. “As long as your mum doesn’t murder us, then we’ll change it up.”

“And?” he prompted, smirking.

Eli huffed at him. “ _And_ I’ll write McGonagall tomorrow. Let me sleep on that, at least.”

Thankfully that was enough to pacify George, so Eli was able to guide him back inside and let him return to work—but the moment he was distracted, she slipped out the back and Disapparated. She loved her boys, all of them, yet sometimes she just…needed a little advice from a different source, that was all. And she didn’t want them feeling poorly about it.

The Burrow felt like home—it had ever since she’d stayed there the first time, when the Weasleys had welcomed her into their ranks without any hesitation. Now, she was visiting as a future member of the family, engaged to George, actually _part_ of it all… But they’d been her family for ages. Honestly, after all the time she’d known them, everything they’d gone through, this really felt more like…the natural progression.

Not that it was a factor—just a bonus.

Eli stepped over a puddle and onto the flat earth surrounding the Burrow, dusting her trousers off as she went. It was lovely, knowing she didn’t need to ask before coming over, that she could always simply show up and be welcomed without issue.

For the first time in a very, very long time, she thought back to the muggles who had raised her—whom she hadn’t so much as seen since she’d removed their memories. As time wore on, the spell Evangeline McKinnon had woven on them had simply fallen apart, something Eli assumed had to do with her finding her dad. After all, her mother’s intention had been for her to find him and rekindle that relationship, so it made sense that as her own emotions changed their did too. Still, she was surprised not to feel any true loss there any longer, just a sense of finality. Her father, everyone she considered family now…they were enough.

She stepped inside the Burrow and waved to Mrs. Weasley, who was busy making lunch over by the stove. “Sorry to just drop in,” she began, feeling as though it was the right thing to say.

Mrs. Weasley hurried over and embraced her. “Nonsense, Eli, you’re always welcome here! The boys were too busy to come by, I’d expect, with how their business is going… Ron said they’ve usually got a line out the door.”

“Well…” Eli twisted her mouth up regretfully. “They…don’t exactly know I’m here. I actually wanted to ask your advice on something.”

Immediately, Mrs. Weasley furrowed her brow, looking terribly concerned. “Did something happen? George didn’t upset you, did he?”

Eli nearly laughed. “No, no, nothing like that. Everything’s lovely with us. No, it’s…” She sighed and moved further into the house, trailing her fingers along the mantel. There were new photos, ones she hadn’t seen before—including one of her, Simon, and the twins just after she and Simon graduated. Seeing her own face on the mantel made warmth swell in her chest. “Professor McGonagall came by earlier, and…she offered me a job at Hogwarts.”

Mrs. Weasley’s eyes sparkled. “Did she now? Excellent choice, on her part.”

“I’m just not certain what to do,” Eli admitted quietly. “I only just left my apprenticeship, and part of me thinks I’m heading into a different career too quickly… If I decide this isn’t for me as well, I’m just going to look flighty and silly. And she’s offering me a lot of responsibility, she wants me to take over teaching Potions _and_ be head of Slytherin. It’s a lot to just…take on when I’ve got no experience teaching, being in charge of students, all that.”

“If I know Minerva McGonagall, she’s only offering you all that because she thinks you can handle it,” Mrs. Weasley told her firmly. “You’ve proven to her that you’re ready, in whatever way. Personally, I think you’d do amazingly at it, and I’d say if you let this chance go you’d be wasting a fantastic opportunity.”

Eli shifted and stared at her feet. She knew it was an incredible opportunity—a full-blown teaching job, head of Slytherin, to make her living working with potions and educating the next generations… But that was the exact reason she was hesitating. She didn’t feel ready.

Well, _and_ she’d be gone half the year. Even though as an actual teacher she’d have more flexibility, and be able to see George more often, it still put a knot in her stomach.

“You know,” Mrs. Weasley began slowly, “when Arthur and I first married, he was still very tied up with work… He spent so many late nights at the Ministry, constantly trying to advance himself and support our family… And it was difficult, but we got through it. Being apart is never enjoyable—but it’s manageable. And in your case, you’d have plenty of chances to see each other. Weekends, evenings, vacations… The entire summer. If you want this, Eli, you can do it, make no mistake. But the question remains. Is this what you want?”

She glanced up at the mantle again, focusing on that same photo. George, in the photo, had an arm hanging around her shoulders and kept pressing kisses into her cheek, making her photo-self laugh and blush.

“I think so,” she whispered.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at her widely. “Then you should tell Minerva yes.”

\--

So Eli did just that. The very next day, she wrote to McGonagall and accepted the job, on the condition that she be allowed to reevaluate her choice at the end of the school year. After all, she’d be teaching students she’d gone to school with, Ginny’s class would be her seventh-years, Nancy’s her sixth-years, and there was a definite risk of Eli being unable to garner any real respect from them. She just wanted to keep her options open in case it backfired. Thankfully, McGonagall was perfectly fine with those terms, but that meant one thing.

The wedding had been moved up. Officially.

After a little back and forth with Kingsley—who had offered himself as their officiant, effectively the highest authority they could get—the wedding was rescheduled for the 24th of August, which sent everything into a sudden frenzy. Eli wanted to shove everything aside and just show up in a pair of trousers and call it a day, but she knew George had a bit of a romantic streak in him. She figured the least she could do was humor that.

Eli knew in the muggle world getting a dress was an arduous task—but it was nothing like that in the magical world. Fittings and alterations happened near-instantaneously, and with designers’ and seamstresses’ enchanted tools, she knew she could find something in a heartbeat. So she rounded up a few people she really trusted—Simon, Tonks, Nancy, Ginny, and Hermione—to help her pick one. Eli went into the whole thing rather skeptical, thinking she’d come out with the simplest one in the boutique, but instead she came out with a gorgeous floor-length ruffled thing, sewn through with scattered organza flowers and layers of tulle tumbling to the bottom. Nothing like what she’d expected. But Simon, damn him, kept leaning over and asking her to picture George’s face when he saw her in the dress. So how could she not?

Just like with Bill and Fleur, Eli and George elected to have their wedding at the Burrow. Nowhere seemed better, and it would be nice to end it on a positive note after what happened at the last wedding. No Death Eaters would be crashing the party this time around.

“Are we having a ringbearer?” George asked Eli one afternoon, looking up from where he’d been writing down ideas for the shop.

Eli snorted. “Bring out the Ring, Frodo.”

He gave her the most utterly bewildered look. “Frodo?”

“It’s from a muggle fantasy book,” Eli explained, laughing. “You saying _ringbearer_ just brought it to mind, that’s all. Anyway, I don’t think so, especially since we decided against wedding parties. Teddy isn’t old enough and there aren’t any other little kids around to do it, besides.”

George shrugged and nodded. “Fair enough. Well, we could just have Simon and Fred be in charge of that.”

“Aren’t we pawning just about everything off on them, though?” she pointed out. “Eventually they’ll get tired of it.”

“It’s just a few things, love. It’s only because we know they’re the least likely to misplace anything.” He sighed and raised his arms above his head, stretching, before he slid the parchment he’d been working on away almost disdainfully. “I don’t suppose there’s a potion to make someone invisible, is there?”

Eli crossed to peer over his shoulder. “No. Just charms. It’d be an interesting challenge, but I’m not sure what ingredients I’d start with, honestly. But I’m willing to look into it.”

“What about…this one?” George pointed out an item on the list.

She squinted as she tried to read his messy handwriting, aware he’d only written it so he could read it, and perhaps Fred too. “A potion to…does this say _‘disturb notice?’_ ”

“Deter,” he corrected, huffing. “Let someone sneak around unnoticed, that’s the point.”

Eli considered that one, really running through a list of possible ingredients in her head. “Hm…perhaps. I’ll have to consider it, I do have some ideas on that one. Sort of a camouflaging potion. I don’t imagine it’d be very long-lasting, though.”

“I reckon the Ministry would be interested in that,” George murmured, ticking off a box next to that line. “The might start contracting us for work at this rate.”

She leaned in draped her arms round him, resting her chin on his shoulder, just enjoying the ability to be close without anything hanging over their heads. There had always been something—school, the war, fears, other obligations—lingering somewhere in the background, even before the war had begun in earnest. Eli still didn’t quite know how to cope with peace, when she’d grown so accustomed to strife. She wondered if she’d ever manage.

“Why exactly are you so tense?” he asked with a wry grin. “We’re getting married in a week, love. Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“It is,” Eli told him wearily. “I’m just…adjusting, that’s all.”

George shook his head at her fondly. “You worry too much, Eli. We’re going to be just fine, I promise. We always have been, haven’t we? So you’ve got nothing to get so worked up about.”

She wasn’t convinced, though. “I dunno, something just feels…off.” Eli pressed a hand to her abdomen. “I don’t know how I’ll ever really adjust to having peace now, not when we’ve spent so long worrying and fearing all the ruddy time. And then I think about everyone who was even more wrapped up in it than us. How will _they_ ever learn to cope?”

He rose from his seat and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and smiling gently. “With time,” George told her sagely. “And patience. It won’t happen overnight.”

Eli tightened her fingers on her own shirt. She only wished it could simply erase itself in one single night. She wished she could go back to normal, wished she could sleep through the night without rousing at the faintest noise—that she could stop standing over her little brother’s crib every time she watched him, never taking her eyes off the little boy as though he’d vanish if she so much as blinked. But Eli had seen how fragile life was. She’d nearly lost her father, come so close to losing Fred, to losing Harry, to losing _everyone_ … And now… Now she just didn’t know how to forget that feeling.

“Eli.” George tipped her head up with a gentle finger under her chin. “We’ll get there, all right? Together.”

_Together_.

It was strange, how one little word could make her whole heart lift. But it could, and it did, and somehow…Eli believed him.

\--

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind.”

Simon rolled his eyes and calmly—for about the fifteenth time—stepped into Eli’s path. “No, you haven’t,” he told her dryly. “It’s just nerves, Eli.”

She crossed her arms. “There’s no such thing as _just nerves_. I swear, I think I’ll throw up all over this lovely gown, and wouldn’t that be perfect? Better to just postpone it.”

“Nobody’s postponing anything,” Ginny told her, smirking.

“Besides, I think an entire country’s worth of Weasleys showed up for this,” Nancy added on with a wry sort of sparkle in her eyes. “It’d be a shame to disappoint them, don’t you think?”

Ginny nodded quite imperiously. “Not to mention Newt Scamander himself.”

Eli actually thought she might puke her guts up then. “Oh, bloody hell. You’re not serious? Newt came? Did Tina? _Merlin_ , I knew I should’ve canceled, why on earth did they…” She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists at her sides, forcibly not putting her hands to her face. The girls would murder her where she stood if she ruined her makeup—Ginny and Nancy had offered opinions, while Hermione worked spells and Ada helped her plan the whole thing, all under the oh-so-critical eye of Simon himself. She might as well battle the Whomping Willow than touch her makeup.

On second thought, she might win that battle. Fire-magic and whatnot. But this lot would take her down in a heartbeat.

“No, but honestly, I don’t think I can do this,” Eli breathed, casting her gaze round for a sympathetic face. “I’m terrified. And it’s scarcely a week before the term starts, I’ve got too much to do, I can’t be sitting around all evening making _small-talk_! This was a stupid idea, having it so close to school starting. There’s no chance.”

Just as Nancy opened her mouth to admonish her, someone knocked softly on the door. Eli expected it to be one of her many helpers of the day—only Ginny, Nancy, and Simon had lingered to help her into the dress, look after her hair, deal with the final touches while the others found their seats.

But when Simon tugged the door open, her dad stepped in and offered a smile. “Ah. Full-blown panic now, I see.”

Eli wrapped her arms round her middle and looked down, embarrassed. She didn’t really want Remus to see her all worked up like this, especially when he’d had plenty of reasons to be infinitely more afraid than her when he got married. This was nothing in comparison.

“Complete with attempts to call the whole event off,” Ginny told him, sighing.

“Naturally.” At least he didn’t seem cross, more…amused. “Will you give us a moment? You three can go find your seats, if someone tells Kingsley we’ll be out in a few minutes. Oh, and Ginny, will you tell your mother to stop trying to rearrange the flowers? There’s not time at this point and she didn’t need to fix it in the first place.”

The three left, Simon giving Eli a bright grin on the way out—and then Eli was alone with her dad, feeling dreadful and uncertain. “I’m s-”

“I was terrified,” he cut in, smiling softly. “Before I married Dora. I didn’t have as much time as you’ve had to let it really set in, but I promise you, I was completely petrified. Knowing you want something and actually facing the reality of _having_ that thing are very different.”

Eli nodded slowly.

Her dad crossed to her and gently unwound her arms, taking her hands in his instead. “I know you’re scared, Eli. Believe me, I understand. But it’s worth it, you know. All the fear, the worries, everything you’re feeling… I promise you it will be worth it, once it’s done. You’ll be _happy_ , love. And you deserve to be happy.”

Unexpected tears constricted her throat, and Eli had to tip her head back and blink a few times to keep from crying. She assumed her makeup was sob-proof, but without anyone to ask at the moment… She didn’t dare risk it. “I think all of us do,” she murmured, gazing up at Remus. “But none of it seems real yet, dad. I can’t even believe any of it and even when I do sort of believe it, I don’t find that I believe it’ll last. I still think tomorrow we’ll all be in danger again.”

“And what if we are?” he countered, lifting his eyebrows. “What if we do find ourselves in danger again tomorrow? Would you choose differently? Truly, with where you are now… If tomorrow brought a new war and a new set of dangers, would you wish you hadn’t done it?”

“No.”

Eli scarcely realized she’d spoken until she watched her dad’s face brighten. “That doesn’t make it less terrifying, though.”

He laughed and nodded, squeezing her hands tightly. “No, it doesn’t. Eli, love… You’re exposing your whole heart to somebody else. And I know that doesn’t come naturally to you—not because of your house, no, I do know you’re thinking that. But because of your upbringing. It was a long time before you experienced real love, somebody who didn’t have a spell causing them to care for you, people who chose you simply based on your own merits. That affects a person, a soul. You’ve had, oh, just under nine years of really knowing what it’s like to be loved, haven’t you? That isn’t very long at all to really _believe_ it.”

She’d never thought of it that way. Not once had she thought that her upbringing, her childhood with fake parents who tried to love her but never could quite hit the mark, could cause her to be so petrified here of all places. But when her dad laid it out that way, it did make sense. Most people had experienced love from day one. They’d grown with it, learned with it, had their whole lives touched by _love_. But Eli had only found that when she was older—when she’d met Simon and the twins, and gotten her first taste of a kind of real, genuine love. The kind that exists between friends, yes, but it was real all the same.

And nine years wasn’t very long at all, to adjust to something most others took entirely for granted.

“I suppose…that could make it a bit difficult to believe,” she admitted quietly.

Remus smiled and took her face in a hand, bringing her in just a bit closer. “The only way left to test it is to go through with this, you know. When you see that George has gone through with it too, I think that’ll clear it right up, don’t you?”

Eli almost laughed even as more tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. “I think it might.”

“Then perhaps it’s time.” He took her arm, made to guide her from the room—but then he paused, turned back to her, gave her a very soft, almost vulnerable look. “Your mother would be proud of you,” he told her quietly. “Eva would be _so_ proud to see the person you’ve become, Eli. I know she would.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a small pouch of dark red velour. And from within the pouch he withdrew a very familiar piece of jewelry. A round silver locket, inscribed with a calligraphic _M_ on the front.

Her mother’s locket. She’d left it with Remus before returning to Hogwarts the year before, knowing he’d keep it safe for her, and hadn’t yet had the heart to ask for it back. But he’d brought it anyway, a piece of her, this witch Eli had never known yet felt an inexorable connection to. Her mother. Her _real_ mother, who had risked everything to give Eli a life of her own, done everything in her own power to keep her safe, to protect her, to give her the best home she could have with the situation she was given.

Wordlessly, Eli let Remus fasten the locket around her neck. It hung just above the neckline of her gown, glimmering in the dim light.

“Thank you,” she whispered, turning back to him once it was secure.

Her father merely smiled and offered his arm.

Eli fought to keep her breathing steady as they left the Burrow behind, crossed the lawn, headed for the pavilion. She knew what was inside, having overseen some of it earlier in the day—an aisle strewn with petals, simple white chairs, gauzy white tulle draped from the ceiling, soft candlelight to accent the setting sun outside. And guests, some she knew, some she didn’t, all waiting to watch this event, a family of Gryffindors welcoming a Slytherin into their world-

And _George_ , waiting for her.

She jutted her chin out and squared her shoulders. George had asked her once, the night of the Yule Ball when their entire relationship had changed, _‘Do you think houses matter to any of that? To the universe?’_ At the time, she’d agreed rather unthinkingly, but now she could truly agree, could really feel it down in her soul. None of it mattered, out here. They were merely two people in love, choosing each other, and if anybody cared beyond that it was a hang-up on a stupid, insignificant difference. Or…perhaps not insignificant. Eli enjoyed the traits that set her apart from George, for otherwise it’d be rather boring, but that didn’t make this any less _right_.

Pausing just outside the pavilion, her dad squeezed her hand and murmured, “Are you ready, love?”

Eli felt herself smiling, happiness surging in where fear had taken root. “Yes.”

They walked in.

She saw nothing, heard nothing, _experienced_ absolutely nothing from the moment she saw George waiting for her. Eli didn’t care that she probably had a ridiculous smile on her face. She didn’t care what anyone else thought. All that mattered was he was _there_ , he was grinning like the sun itself might shine out of him, looking so handsome and happy that she knew this was _right_ , just from the expression on his face.

Remus wasn’t giving her away. That had been an important distinction—Eli released his arm herself, kissed his cheek softly, and crossed to stand opposite George on her own. Nobody _possessed_ her so no one could give her away. She was choosing this herself.

“Thought you’d be halfway to France by now,” George murmured under his breath, still beaming at her.

Eli smothered the urge to laugh. “I thought you’d be.”

“Only if you were with me.”

If it’d been just them, Eli might’ve smacked him—but Kingsley was beginning, Mrs. Weasley was all but bawling into a handkerchief, and she knew she had to at least _pretend_ to have some decorum or she’d ruin the whole thing.

In the end, it was so beautifully, incredibly _easy_. Eli had been afraid, but the fear melted all away. Her hands didn’t tremble. She didn’t fumble her vows or drop the ring. She even managed not to sob when George slipped the simple, beautiful white gold band onto her finger. Because it was _right_ , because this was what her heart wanted… And it didn’t need to be overwrought, it didn’t need to be flowery or full of a hundred thousand ways to say the same exact thing. Eli knew. And George knew. And when she kissed him, when all her emotions threatened to overwhelm her… She merely threaded her fingers between his and held on tight. For Eli thought she could do anything, so long as they were together.


End file.
